


The Kebab Killer

by Osiris_Brackhaus (Rynthjan)



Series: Sir Yaden [24]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, M/M, Psychics, Romance, Violence, p2, phoenix empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Osiris_Brackhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a police officer in the Phoenix Empire’s capital. But when his lover is attacked by a local serial killer, they are thrown into a world of danger and intrigue, of nobles and psions. But the only thing Sam truly wants is to keep his relationship alive through all the madness…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the year 5046 of the Phoenix Empire timeline.

Downtown Imperial City.

Nestled on a low slope between the Imperial Palace on its towering cliff and the high-rise commercial buildings in Ridge, it was the one city quarter where people actually liked to live. Narrow brownstone buildings rubbed shoulders with equally narrow concrete houses. All of them were almost as old as the city itself, all of them were covered in the same, ubiquitous sprinkling of moss that came with the constant drizzle.

Downtown was home to all the commoners that worked in the other, more relevant quarters of the Phoenix Empire's capital. It was were normal people went for a nice afternoon coffee, or a dinner with friends when they wanted to make sure no pack of teenage nobles would crash the place and insist on owning everyone.

Downtown was where the normal people lived. It was the most ordinary place in this extraordinary city so ripe with glamour and intrigue.

Little wonder, then, that Sam felt so much at home here.

He was a perfectly ordinary member of the the DC's, the Ducal Crescents, the local police force. A straight and hard working guy, and he loved his job for the plainest of reasons. Taking care of his neighbourhood made him happy.

Going on patrol on the cobblestone roads that were too steep and too narrow for most vehicles was what he had wanted to do all his life. Looking down from below the palace walls over the glazed roof tiles of Downtown, a forest of slanted angles in any shade of emerald green imaginable, he knew he was where he belonged.

He was a genuinely nice guy. And he was well aware that many of his friends considered him just a little boring as well.

Though that would probably change after tonight, Sam mused with an awkward smile. For tonight, he would ask his lover to join him as his plus one for this year’s annual police ball.

To someone outside the Ducal Crescents, that wouldn’t have been much of a thing. But among the Duke’s personal guard, that was about as good as a marriage proposal. And all this for a man he had met mere four weeks ago. Sam would never hear the end of this among his colleagues.

But the officer was very sure on this part. Hell, he would have asked this man to marry him anyway, and gladly so. And to move in together, and to raise children and have a dog and be happy ever after.

But then again, he really didn’t want to rush things.

Then again, on the other hand, that was exactly what he wanted. It just had all been too good to be true, and Sam could hardly wait to tie any knot possible to only get rid of that fear that he still might wake up one day and find that he had been dreaming all along.

Pretty much exactly four weeks ago, the old kebab shack on the Crooked Steps had reopened under new ownership. Which in itself had already been a pretty good thing.

The Crooked Steps were one of the ‘major roads’ of Downtown, and the kebab shack was perfectly situated at the end of several patrol routes. Naturally, it had always been a favourite hangout of the Ducal Crescents working in the area.

But the previous owner had left for another town after a recent wave of murders in the area. And it didn’t look good if the owner of a police hangout hadn’t much confidence in the local authorities to protect him. Commissioner Myers had been livid with anger.

So, seeing the blinds of the kebab shack going up again had put a big smile on Sam’s face. But nothing could have prepared him for what had happened when he walked in a few days later with a bunch of colleagues for a beer after work.

He had never seen himself as the romantic kind of guy. But when the new owner of the kebab shack smiled at him in greeting, Sam literally felt the earth tremble under his feet. The guy behind the counter was at least a head shorter than Sam, with a big bundle of dreadlocks on his head and the most genuine smile the officer had ever seen on a man.

Sam would never say it out loud, but it had been love at first sight, at least on his part. For the first time ever, he was convinced he had found someone as genuinely honest and caring as himself.

Yaden.

That was the kebab shack’s owner’s name, and merely thinking of him made Sam’s neck tingle.

For a few days, he had spent every spare moment at the shack, helping Yaden clean up and prepare for the next day. And then, one late night, they had kissed instead of just hugging each other for goodbye. It had happened so naturally that Sam couldn’t say what had triggered the change from friends to lovers.  
But it had been clear that Yaden was equally sure about his intentions that night. They had barely made it up into Yaden’s tiny bedroom above the kitchen. Their clothes had definitely been gone before they had even reached the stairs.

Silently walking through the gentle drizzle, Sam blushed at the memory. It really wasn’t like him to act so… passionately. But there were a lot of things different when he was around Yaden. And actually, he was very happy about his new self.

And four weeks into their relationship, Sam still hadn’t figured why it shouldn’t last. Sure, it felt too good to be real, but then again, why shouldn’t he have some exceptional luck for once? The only thing Sam knew was that he had never before been that sure about something.

Yaden was the one. The man he would marry and love and respect and support as long as he lived. And the man he would invite for this year’s police ball.

Now only a few narrow stairs away from the kebab shack, Sam felt his heart literally beat inside his throat. What if Yaden said no, or merely ‘maybe’? Or worse, what if he said yes and didn’t realize what an important event that was to Sam?

Jumpy with excitement, Sam found himself falling into his childhood’s habit of sliding down the stairs, merely slipping off the edge of each wet, algae-slicked stone slab, turning with a well-placed grip on a piece of railing or bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball.  
It was a pretty damn undignified way of moving for a DC officer, but then again, it was fast, and relatively safe if you knew the place by heart. And really, Sam couldn’t have care less, not tonight.

But when he finally turned into the kebab shack’s narrow alleyway, he stopped dead in his tracks. Sam had to hold onto the nearest wall not to bowl over the throng of people that clogged up the street in front of Yaden's restaurant.  
The first thing he noticed was the purple tape all over the place that he and his colleagues used to mark off a crime scene. Icy vertigo spread from Sam’s spine as dread instantly swallowed all the elation he had felt only seconds ago.

Next thing Sam knew was being surrounded by his colleagues, all of them sombre, silent and dead serious. All of them staring at him, a wall of familiar faces hiding some bitter truth.

And Sam already knew what they were so afraid to tell him.

The previous owner of the Kebab Shack hadn’t left because he had thought the area wasn’t safe any more. He had feared for his life.  
In the last months, some crazy bastard had started killing people working in the small restaurants in Downtown. More than a dozen good people killed silently with an alien poison, with a blow dart from behind, and no one had a clue as to why or even the hint of a trace. Press had immediately dubbed him ‘the kebab killer’, for obvious reasons.

Sam knew he had turned a blind eye to the whole subject as soon as he started dating Yaden. But now, as two of his colleagues lifted the purple tape that barred the Kebab Shack’s door, he knew he should have paid more attention. Maybe he should have even convinced Yaden to leave.

How could he have ever believed that nothing would happen to the man he loved?

“Sam, oh my god, Sam, there you are!”

Finally, a familiar face surfaced from the surrounding sea of uniforms. Eugene, Sam’s partner, squeezed himself through the narrow corridor that led further back into the kitchen. Only a few years away from his retirement, he had less hair and more belly than the average Ducal Crescent officer. But he was honest, reliable and the best friend Sam could have wished for.

Right now, Eugene looked even more shell-shocked than Sam imagined himself to do.

“I am so sorry, Sam, so sorry.” Still struggling with the ridiculous crowd clogging up the tiny place, Eugene managed to hug Sam tightly. “This is so very, very wrong.”

For a heartbeat, Sam didn’t know what to say or do. Then, finally, the first coherent thought formed in his mind.

“Where is he? Where’s Yaden?”

Sam’s voice sounded much more composed than he had thought it possible.

“They have brought him upstairs.”

“I want to see him.”

“Of course. I’ll come with you.”

So Sam started walking. Behind the counter, through the corridor, into the kitchen. The whole space was swarming with lab guys taking prints and whatever it was they did, but at least there were less regular officers standing around here.

From the kitchen, a steep staircase led up to Yaden’s place. Just a low room under the diner’s roof, with a shower squeezed into the only corner high enough to stand in. It was tiny, crammed, clammy and on the rare occasions the sun shone on Imperial City, swelteringly hot. But for the last weeks, it had become more of a home to Sam than any place he had ever lived in.

Mercifully, there were no other officers upstairs. Only Doc Barnabas, the local medic, was standing next to the low bed. His grey coat a stark contrast to all the purple around, he was just taking off his latex gloves when Sam entered.

“I’ll be damned,” the elderly medic mumbled around the stump of a cigar in his mouth. “But there’s nothing more I can do.”

Looking up at Sam, he added pointedly: “And don’t ask me, because I don’t know. Crazy alien killers using crazy alien poisons…”

Right when Sam had gathered enough courage to ask Doc Barnabas what the heck he was actually talking about, he caught a movement under the blanket on the bed. Stunned wordless, he continued staring, wondering if all this had been too much and his mind was playing tricks.

But it wasn’t his mind. Sure enough, the person under the blanket was moving. And judging by the bundle of brown dreadlocks on the pillow, it was Yaden lying there.

“HE'S NOT DEAD?!”

Sam felt like there should be something grand happening, some thunder or lightning or at least some drum-rolls. Maybe even a laugh track.  
But nothing happened. Doc Barnabas merely closed his bag with a disdainful grunt.

“No, not dead.” He looked back at the bed, then towards Sam. “Though by all means, that boy ought to be dead by now.” Pushing his way through the chaos on the floor, he continued muttering. “Those alien poisons, I can’t make any sense of it. The dose should have killed a whole village, and instead, that boy here is merely unconscious. And don’t ask about side-effects, I don’t even know why he ain’t dead.”

Still too upset for words, Sam looked from the doc to Eugene, to Yaden and back.

“I’ll see the Doc out. You two will need some time on your own, now, I s’pose,” his partner swiftly quipped and disappeared down the narrow stairway, following the still-grumbling Doc Barnabas.

“Why hasn't anyone just told me..?” Sam asked, his voice trailing off in the suddenly empty room. By now, he simultaneously felt confused, elated and tired enough to keel over on the spot.

But then a low moan came from the bed, and instantly he was at his lover’s side.

“Hey, darling, shh…” Gently helping Yaden’s head onto a pillow, he smiled at the other man. “You’ll be fine in no time.”

“That’s great…” Yaden croaked, his eyes moving in and out of focus. He looked terrible, pale and exhausted, but still unbelievably good considering the fact that he should have been dead. After a moment, he managed to focus on Sam's face, and even raised a small smile. “Hello handsome... And you are who, exactly?”

Out of the pan, into the fire, Sam thought. But sure, off-world poisons could have any kind of effects on humans. And some kind of amnesia would be a small price if Yaden got to live. He could have just as well been vegetable, for all they knew. Hopefully, it was nothing but a minor, temporary memory loss.

“I am Sam” he replied after a heartbeat’s hesitation. “I am your lover.”

“Oh.” A little cautious, but still smiling, Yaden leaned his face into Sam’s hand on his pillow. “Really? You smell nice.”

The last comment had been so innocently honest, so full of pleasant surprise at his own obvious good taste that Sam broke into loud laughter. Maybe Yaden had forgotten where he was, his own name and the people around him.

But it was still Yaden. And if he had fallen once for Sam, he would easily fall again.  
Especially now that Sam knew all the ways of making Yaden smile.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud, tinny, rumbling noise startled Sam awake.

But already a heartbeat later, he heard the staccato sound of Yaden cutting stuff down below in the kitchen. By now, this was so familiar that he knew everything was fine.

A lazy smile on his face, Sam took the time to turn around in bed once more, just a second longer savouring the peace of the moment.

Since the attack on Yaden's life, three days had passed. Taking a week off had been no problem for Sam, as all of his colleagues seemed to share his bad conscience in this case. So he had basically moved in with Yaden, into the tiny, crammed room above the Kebab Shack. Just to help him until he was completely recovered, and to make sure nothing went wrong again.

And Yaden had recovered remarkably well. Except for his memory loss, he was a good as new, no trace of the fact that he had been dosed with enough alien poison to kill a score of men. And even the amnesia seemed to be, well, manageable.

At least in so far as their relationship was concerned, Sam thought with a dirty smile, Yaden’s memory loss seemed to be of little hindrance. Yaden had no recollection of his time before he opened the Kebab Shack, and even the weeks since then were hardly there any longer. But he had instantly trusted Sam, and from there on things had developed rather swiftly. Those last days had been... very good days.

Not a single trace of the killer, though.

Yawning, Sam stretched and cursed as his hands got stopped by the low ceiling, as every morning. Here, in the corner of the room, there was barely enough space under the roof for the bed, let alone for a grown man lying there. But so far, they both had managed without any serious injuries. Even when their nightly activities were a little... boisterous.

Now grinning widely, Sam rolled off the bed. He didn't even have to look out of the minuscule window to know that the sun was shining outside. It was only mid-day, and the low room was already stiflingly hot. Default weather in Imperial City was drizzle, but every now and then, there were a few nice days in between. And these seemed to become the hottest days of the year, by the feel of it.

Considering his options, Sam decided against dressing properly and walked down the narrow stairway to the kitchen in nothing but his sleeping shorts. Downstairs, it was still noticeably cooler, a light breeze from the bay coming trough the back door.

Yaden was standing at the long, stainless-steel table that took up one half of the kitchen. Surrounded by dozens of bowls and boxes, he was cutting vegetables for tonight's salads and kebab toppings. He wouldn't have had to, but he had insisted on opening the Shack as soon as he was able to stand. And Sam really didn't find a heart to object. It was good for Yaden, it was good for the whole neighbourhood, and it consequence it was perfect for Sam.

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Sam took a moment to look at the man he firmly intended to share the rest of his life with. A few years younger than him, Yaden wasn't exactly the kind of guy Sam had seen himself falling for. He wasn't tall or athletically built, just healthy, tanned and confident. His dreadlocks were neatly tied up to a bundle on top of his head, gently bobbing with the motion of Yaden's hands on the cutting board. Dressed in khaki shorts and a white tee, barefoot as always, there was nothing truly remarkable about him, except maybe for the odd tattoos that covered large parts of both of Yaden's lower arms.  
And Sam wouldn't have wanted to change a single thing.

Finally, Yaden looked up from his work, smiling.

“Hey love.” he said, grinning at the sight of his half-clad lover. “Slept well?”

“Like a baby. But you could have woken me up. I could have helped.”

“Nah.” Calmly, Yaden took another batch of greens and continued chopping. “I am up already for a few hours, and I needed something to do.”

“Sure. So, what about breakfast?” Sam asked, walking into the kitchen with the clear intent to cuddle his lover, sharp knife or not.

But only a moment later, he stepped into something squishy and wet on the floor, almost slipping on the tiles.

“What the hell...?!” he exclaimed, peeling a mangled piece of tomato from between his toes, laughing at his mishap. “What happened?”

“Huh?” Yaden leaned forward to see what was wrong and snickered softly. “Oh I am sorry.” Putting away the cutting knife, he fetched a paper towel and handed it over to Sam. “I was a little too enthusiastic this morning and I kinda hurled a whole bowl of sliced tomatoes across the place. Really thought I had found them all.”

“Well, apparently, you didn't.” Still laughing and wiping his foot, Sam suddenly noticed that there was something off with his lover's cheery mood. “Are you all right, love? How are you feeling today?”

Yaden started to answer, but then broke off before he had said a word. Standing silently in front of Sam, he seemed utterly at a lack of words.

“Well, it's definitely too late now for a credible 'I'm fine'.” Sam quipped with genuine concern. “What's wrong, love?”

“I... Well...” Still searching, Yaden's mouth worked silently for a moment Sam took his hands in support.

“You think... Do you think I would have told you if I were psychic?” he finally asked.

“A psychic? Yes, you would. And no, you never have. What in all the empire makes you think you're a psion?”

Looking slightly embarrassed, Yaden looked at his feet.

Without saying, Sam knew that his lover was as freaked out about the thought as he was himself. Psions were immensely powerful people. They were sages in ivory towers far away somewhere, doing important things that never touched ordinary people's lifes. Psions were mad villains, bent on submitting or eradicating all of humanity. Psions were what good popcorn movies had either as villains or as heroes.

No normal people ever were psions.

“I can... move... things...” Yaden finally said with a crooked smile. “It's not working each time, but I am pretty sure.”

“Wow. That's... cool.” Sam knew he sounded hardly convincing. “Maybe that poison awakened some potential in you.”

“Or maybe I just never told you.”

“But if you had been a psion before, you'd be registered with the guild and be wearing your badge.”

“Would I?”

“Well, that's what they told us in threat-assessment class.”

Actually, what Sam had been told was that all good psions were always wearing their badges. Those without badges were rogues and probably criminals or insane. Probably both. But that really wasn't something he was going to tell the man he still fully intended to marry.

“Okay.” Still smiling weakly, Yaden lifted a hand, pointing at one of the metal bowls that were crowding the kitchen. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, then the bowl wobbled and flipped over as if kicked. “See? That's also what happened to the tomatoes. I'm still very clumsy.”

“That actually is... rather impressive. Wait, does that mean we should check on top of the shelves as well for hidden tomatoes?”

At first, Yaden seemed dumbfounded, than he laughed with relief. “Yes, I think we should check the shelves.” For a moment, he silently looked at Sam, then added gently: “Thank you.”

“Sure.” Gently, he nudged his lover's forehead with the tip of his nose. “I'll always be here for you.”

“I know.” Taking a deep breath, Yaden braved a smile, asking: “So, what do we do next?”

“I'd say we go to the psions' guild and have you tested. They'll probably know best how to deal with your new abilities or if it's just a temporary side-effect of the poison.”

“What – what if I have just lost my badge?”

“Well, considering the mess you have upstairs, I am afraid this is a possibility. And that was even before I moved in here.”

Yaden only grinned sheepishly, prompting Sam to thoroughly cuddle and kiss him. Psion or not, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man. He was perfect.

And once they had registered Yaden with the guild, they would never have to do anything about it. Apart from wearing the badge, it could be as if he were a perfectly mundane person. Nothing would change.

“Well, this feels a bit weird, but what if I go upstairs and clean up all your stuff? I mean, if we have to go searching for a badge that's probably never been there, I can just as well get some order into our bedroom.”

“You said 'our' bedroom.” Yaden smiled widely, beaming with silent joy. “And I think it's a great idea. It's not as if you could find anything I would want to hide. All that stuff upstairs is equally new to both of us. And meanwhile, I can put my true talents to good use and make breakfast for us.”

“That sounds marvellous, dear.”

And with a final kiss, they parted in their respective directions, both determined not to change their life regardless the unexpected revelations that might still come up.


	3. Chapter 3

“Can't we just do something nice instead? Like, go and have some tea and cookies somewhere posh?”

Yaden's question was almost drowned out by the din of the tram they were sitting in. It was one of those rare steam-driven ones, smelly and loud but much faster than the usual donkey-pulled versions. 

“Darling. Please.” Sam put his arms around Yaden's shoulders, trying his best to seem confident. “It's just a short visit, and once we have you registered, we'll never have to go there again.”

Silently, Yaden nodded, snuggling closer to his lover. 

Even though the psions' guild worked openly in the empire since two generations now, they still weren't exactly trusted. Most of it surely was mere superstition, but then again, how much trust can you feel towards someone who could be planting that very trust into your mind right now? At least, Sam was very sure that they wouldn't keep Yaden and lock him up. Well, reasonably sure, at least. 

Both men watched the city pass by while they silently waited for their exit station to come up. The headquarters of the psions' guild was located in Opera, the expensive, old city quarter on the other side of the city. Soon enough, they passed the Old Opera itself, a sprawling monument to the entertaining arts that was the namesake of the whole quarter. Some people even said it was the oldest building of the entire city, older even than the palace itself. 

Sam shrugged inwardly. He had never cared for those stories, nor for the opera. To him, it was a pompous playground for nobles, and a place he visited only once a year for the annual police ball. 

Beyond that, the tram huffed along one of the quarter's many parks. Underneath the trees, Sam could make out people in their finest outfits, strolling around leisurely, probably on their way to an art-gallery or one of the ridiculously expensive restaurants that littered the area. 

Sam definitely preferred Downtown. 

With a shrill whistle, the tram announced their next stop, and Sam gestured Yaden to get off. From here on, the tram would take the steep uphill-climb that led to Embassy Row, the cluster of noble embassies and guest-houses on their cliff facing the palace across the bay. But they were headed for another corner of Opera, and would manage the last piece of the trip on foot. 

On the main road, there were enough people milling around to make Sam wonder if there was a special occasion today that he had no information about. But swiftly, he realized that it had been merely the usual crowd of tourists, trying to get onto the tram to spare them the walk up to Embassy Row on their own. 

Whatever one might want to say about the empire's capital, the public transport worked impressively well. 

Careful not to lose his lover in the milling throng of people, Sam gently ushered Yaden along. For a while, they followed the remaining tourist towards the embassies, then turned to their right, deeper into the quarter. It was still a busy street, but much less crowded than the main they had left behind. The huge trees lining the street offered a welcome shade from the still-shining sun, and a heavy floral scent hung in the air.   
It took Sam a moment to figure out that they were walking down an alley of illeiya trees, their giant leaves each sheltering a large, delicate white flower against the usually omnipresent rain. The surrounding mansions were impeccably clean, the gardens minutely tended, no trace of moss or algae that slicked the broad pavement. 

Definitely not a place Sam felt at home, and by the looks of it, neither did Yaden. Especially walking down the road barefoot as he was, Yaden looked out of place here. Sam wasn't even sure if his lover even owned a pair of shoes. He hadn't seen any in his room, so far, either. 

“Are you sure it's here?” Yaden asked in a hushed tone. “It's not a corner of town I want to be found loitering around, you know?”

“It's here, and we're not loitering.” Smiling despite his own queasy feeling, Sam gently nudged his lover's side. “What do you think I am wearing my uniform for? And besides, we're a young couple, madly in love and just strolling around, just in case someone asks.”

That brought a soft snicker from Yaden. 

“Public indecency is so much preferable to loitering...” he quipped, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“I said nothing about...” Laughing at his own blush, Sam shook his head. “You're impossible.” 

“But inspiring, you can't deny that.” 

“I think that's called tempting, not inspiring. And yes, you are. But no, not now, and definitely not here. We've come all the way and the guild should be one of the next houses. And I really don't want to issue myself a fine for harbouring a non-licenced psychic. That would be ridiculous.”

In reply, Yaden only gave him a caustic look. He still didn't really like to hear himself being spoken of as a psion. Well, he would have undeniable proof of his talents or respective lack thereof in black-and-white soon enough. 

The psions' guild headquarters turned out to be just another mansion, the guild's stylized eye logo prominently displayed in brass on both wings of the gate that lead onto the property. The gates were wide open, leading onto a wide path of white gravel under a filigree wrought-iron-and-glass walkway that was meant to protect from the usually incessant drizzle. But today, the glass roof only helped to keep the hot and humid air from moving. 

Sam forced himself to smile as he felt Yaden walk more and more gingerly. 

“Hey. It's gonna be all right. I promise.” 

Yaden took a deep breath and braved a similar smile. 

“I'm sorry I'm acting such a fool.” he said almost inaudibly.

But whatever Sam would have said was drowned out as suddenly, the mansion's door was flung open from within. Instantly, a squad of noble guards flooded the path, giving Sam and Yaden only the merest moment to step aside onto one of the small garden paths. Fully professional, their tasselled sabres and shining metal breastplates were almost obscuring the fact that they were also carrying state-of-the-art blasters and heavy energy-shields. 

Both Sam and Yaden instantly adopted the typical stance of any commoner when faced with a noble – a polite but non-committal smile, head slightly bowed, eyes on the ground and hands where the guards could see them. 

Sure enough, right behind the guards a man in billowing yellow robes stepped out of the building, surrounded by a gaggle of servants. Sam didn't even have to see the flock of shrouded women following him like a soundless procession to identify him as a member of House Jehanni. As a member of the Ducal Crescents, he had learned almost more about etiquette than about fighting. Which, considering that the place where he worked was crawling with irritable nobles, made absolute sense to him. 

Silently, he bowed deeper, gently pulling Yaden's arm to make him do the same. Jehanni expected to see deference in commoners, Dracons fear, Castella admiration, and so on. Each noble house had their own ideas of what was proper behaviour for a commoner, and Sam really didn't want to add this kind of complication to his already complicated day. He knew he had some kind of protection through the purple uniform he was wearing, but Yaden had none. 

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to have his lover registered with the psions, Sam thought as the noble and his retinue passed. That would at least confer Yaden some level of standing, and some protection in the process. 

As swiftly as he had appeared, the Jehanni boarded a small glider that had landed on the street, his entourage and guards following efficiently. The last guard even acknowledged Sam's presence with a collegial nod and a tip to his helmet before closing the glider's door behind him. Apparently, it wasn't their first visit to the empire's capital. 

“You okay?” Sam asked his lover, who was still standing next to a manicured moss-hedge, a frozen smile on his face. 

“Don't the psychics have another office somewhere else, for normal people? I mean, this is probably where all the nobles travelling to P2 via teleport are arriving, and we're going to stand right in their way all the time!”

“Then better let's get out of their way as fast as we can.” 

With gentle insistence, Sam led Yaden the last steps up to the entrance door of the psions' guild. The wide door was still standing open, the hall behind it cavernously huge and dark. 

Careful not to stand in another Noble’s way, Sam entered the mansion, looking around the hall for some kind of reception desk. But except for several people busily rushing around, he couldn't find any place that looked like anything where a clueless, mundane first-time-visitor like him could find any assistance. 

For a moment, the two men just stood there, close to the wall, trying not to look too awkward. The place was basically oozing respectability, with marble staircases and huge oil-paintings of serene people in muted colours on the walls. Everyone around here was wearing the small, golden badge identifying them as psychics, and was looking very professional. 

Yaden was just about to get fidgety enough to suggest leaving as suddenly, one of the psions came directly their way, smiling widely. 

“Officer Balmoral?” the psion asked politely, yet didn't even wait for Sam's reaction before shaking his hand. “We have been expecting you.”

“Really?” Sam replied, slightly apprehensive. The man greeting him was middle aged, with thick silver hair and a brown tweed suit that looked as posh and old-fashioned as the whole place. Friendly enough, but with psions, you never knew. “I didn't make an appointment.”

“Oh please!” the other man exclaimed, waving away Sam's concern with a laugh and a gesture of his hand. “This is the psions' guild you are coming to, son, not the Imperial Chancellery. As if you'd need an appointment.”

Outside, thunder rolled in the distance. 

“Goodness, but where are my manners? Please, I am Doctor Reichenbach, and I am the head of the local talent recognition team. And this is your husband, I assume?”

“My partner,” Sam interjected before Yaden could say anything rash. He knew that expression on his lover's face, and he really didn't want to make a scene in the entrance hall of the psions' guild with god-knew-who walking through here. “We are in need of your expertise.”

“Of course you are,” Reichenbach confirmed with the jovial attitude of a benevolent uncle. “If you would like to come with me, we could run through the necessary tests in my office. It'll only take half an hour and you can be on your way again.”

Again, thunder grumbled outside, this time much closer. Reichenbach looked up, concentrating for a moment, then the main doors closed apparently on their own. 

“Well, it was about time the weather changed,” he said, gesturing the two men to follow him. “People always complain about the weather in the capital, but actually I really like the rain. All this sunshine gives me migraines. And that smell!”

Sam and Yaden exchanged a glance, rolled their eyes and followed the doctor. Silently, Yaden sneaked his hand into Sam's, smiling despite the creepy surroundings. 

“'Officer Balmoral'?” he asked, softly enough so only Sam could overhear. “You never told me you had a surname.”

“Really? I... Well, yes. Sam Balmoral, at your service.” Sam grinned down at his lover. “Don't you?”

Instead of an answer, Yaden scoffed. “How would I know? You only call me Yaden.”

Of course. Many commoners had surnames, but by far not all of them. And it wasn't usual to address commoners by their surnames, unless they held a position of relatively high respectability, like doctors and, well, DC officers. So thanks to his amnesia, Yaden probably really didn't know if there was a surname connected to him.

“I'll check your liquor license once we are home,” Sam replied with a smile. “If you have a surname, it'll be on the papers.”

“If I have a license,” Yaden returned, deadpan serious. 

“Oh please. First you turn out to be an unregistered psychic, now a tax evader?” Sam tousled his lover affectionately. “What's gonna come next? You're a drug-dealer? Or maybe a democrat?”

Not quite joking, Yaden managed to bring up a smile. “We will find out together, I promise.”

“Don't worry, love. We'll get this all under control again.”


	4. Chapter 4

Finally, they reached Doctor Reichenbach's office, which turned out to be a large room stuffed with so many books it looked more like a library. Desk and chairs seemed to have been stuffed in on second thought only. But apart from the red-tiled porting circle in one corner, it also looked comfortingly mundane. So when Reichenbach asked them to sit down, Yaden seemed almost at ease.

“Well, let me see if I have everything straight,” Reichenbach commenced, pushing up his round, gold-rimmed glasses to read in a slim file that had been waiting on the coffee table. “You have suffered some traumatic episode, and since then you occasionally exhibit psychic abilities, yes?”

Before Yaden could snap something impolite, Sam took his hand and answered in his stead.

“Yes, he was attacked and poisoned. The dose should have been enough to kill him, but luckily he just fell unconscious.” Casting an encouraging glance to Yaden, Sam continued. “When he awoke, most of his memories were gone, and since a few days now, he's been showing... well, basic telekinetic abilities.”

“Really? Fully manifest abilities are a rare thing, but not unheard of.” Reichenbach smiled encouragingly as well, but to Yaden it seemed merely condescending. “Were you physically restricted during the attack?”

“No,” Sam replied with growing apprehension. “Why do you want to know?”

“Physical helplessness is one of the classical triggers of a chrysalis, the awakening of psychic talents. But this can happen for any number of reasons. You said he was poisoned – do you know what poison he had been subjected to?”

“Is this important?” Yaden asked caustically. “We're just here to see if I am a psion after all and to register me if necessary. We didn't want a history lesson.”

Outside, thunder rolled again, and the first heavy drops of rain were tapping against the tall windows of Reichenbach's office.

“I am sorry,” Reichenbach replied credibly enough, rising to close the windows. “It is just that we still know so little about how psionic abilities are triggered, and every little bit will help. But you are right, of course, nothing of this matters right now. We can always make a proper assessment of your chrysalis later.”

Sitting down again, Reichenbach opened a finely crafted wooden box on the table next to him, sifting trough its contents. After a moment, he pulled out a small, red rubber ball, and set it onto the table.

“Well, let's start with the standards. I'll ask you to move this object, and you'll try. You won't have to actually manage to move anything, but I'll monitor your supernatural activity. We'll probably have a neat profile of your abilities in less than fifteen minutes.”

Again, he smiled like a benevolent uncle, gesturing to Yaden.

“Come on, try it. Move the ball.”

Sam looked at his lover, encouragingly, but Yaden just scoffed.

“That's rubber. I can't move that.”

“That's unusual, but not unheard of, either.” Reichenbach said, taking a note on his clipboard. Then he pulled a small display out of the box and showed it to Yaden. “Here, have a look. Is there anything that would work for you?”

Yaden took a glance at the assorted small objects, then pointed at a small quarter-credit coin in the lower corner with a sigh.

“The coin, that would work fine.”

“Very well.” Reichenbach took another note. “Come on, try it. Move the -”

He stopped talking as Yaden raised his hand, the coin floating out of it's tiny compartment in perfect synchronisation. Following the gestures of Yaden's hand, the coin flew up and around, made a few loops and a corkscrew turn and then rammed down onto the coffee table with enough force to get wedged into the wood.

“Good enough for you?” Yaden asked caustically. “I can do it again, in case you missed anything.”

Swiftly, Sam took Yaden's hand again, trying to calm him with a reassuring smile. Most probably, his lover hadn't noticed that Reichenbach was sitting there in his armchair, staring at Yaden with barely veiled disbelief. Surely, the 'head of the local talent recognition team' wouldn't pale like this over any normal boy levitating a coin.

“That was... most unusual.” Reichenbach said, nervously glancing at his clipboard as if searching for an answer. He forced himself into a shaky smile, adding: “That was very impressive already, well done.”

Outside, the first lightning split the darkened sky, thunder following almost instantly. By now, the rain was falling heavily.

“But I am afraid your power patterns are somewhat unusual.” Reichenbach had a small sheen of sweat on his forehead that really didn't help to make his smile seem any less forced. “I really don't think I am qualified to decide in this case, and I really would like to get a second opinion here.”

“What's wrong with me?” Yaden snapped, his voice carrying an uncharacteristically threatening tone. “Why the hell don't you tell me the truth?!”

“It'll just take a second,” Reichenbach all but whispered. Then he closed his eyes, concentrating, his lips twitching as if silently talking to someone else.

“Shh,” Sam tried to calm Yaden. “I am sure there is a perfectly ordinary reason to all this.”

“This is the fucking psions' guild, for fuck's sake!” Yaden hissed, obviously not in the mood to be calmed. “These should be the people understanding what's happening to me, not the ones to freak out! That's my job!”

Outside, a proper thunderstorm was raging by now. For a city that was known for its perpetual drizzle, this weather was plain mad. Black clouds hung roiling over the city, and it was dark enough in the office that the lights automatically switched on.

“Just a second,” Reichenbach said finally, starting to clean his immaculate glasses as if in dire need for his hands to do something. “My colleague will be with us in a second.”

“That is very kind of you,” Sam interjected. “But we were just here to get some confirmation, and we really didn't want to -”

But then, the tell-tale non-sound of someone suddenly materializing in the room with them cut him short.

“What is this about, Reichenbach?” A tall man stepped out of the porting circle in the corner, a concentrated and slightly stressed look on his gaunt features. “We're having some sort of situation right now, and I really - “

Instead of an answer, Reichenbach rose and all but slammed his clipboard into the other man's chest. Turning around, he had his sweet fake smile back on, explaining:

“I am sorry, Gentlemen, this is Master Lebovitz. He's an authority in... unusual expressions of talent, and he'll be able to help us in but an instant.” Turning back to his colleague, he asked just as unconvincingly sweet: “Isn't that so, Daniel?”

'Daniel' didn't even react, instead continued reading Reichenbach's notes. Then, his eyes widened and he asked harshly: “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“But you did check him for demonic possession, didn't you?!”

“I...” Reichenbach started, too flustered to find words, but he was cut short by Yaden voicing his understandable anger.

“What the hell do you mean, DEMONIC POSSESSION?!”

Right then, a lighting bolt struck so close to the building that the thunder made the windows rattle and the lights flicker. The whole room suddenly smelled of ozone, and Sam could feel the hair on his arms rise with static.

“This is no natural weather,” Master Lebovitz cursed to himself. He flung Reichenbach's clipboard into a corner, where it skittered across the dark hardwood floor. “I really have no time for this.”

And without so much as a nod, he disappeared into thin air.

“I am sorry.” Now, Reichenbach sounded close to panicking. “As you see, we're having some kind of situation that requires all our concentration. Please, relax, feel like at home, I'll be right back and then we'll sort all of this out. Right? Fine.”

And just like his colleague before, he disappeared instantly, leaving Sam and Yaden alone in his office.

“What the HELL?!” Yaden asked once he had gathered his wits. “Sam, I'm no fucking demon! What's wrong with these people?!”

Still holding Yaden's hand, Sam was at a complete loss on what to make of this scene. Up until now, he had found the psions' guild to be extremely professional whenever he had worked with one of them. This was... deeply troubling in so many ways, he really would need some more time to make up his mind.

But there was one thing he was instantly sure of.

“You are NOT a demon.” he said firmly to Yaden, squeezing his hand. “And now, we'll get out of here as soon as we can.”

He didn't even leave his lover enough time to give him a surprised look. Instead, he pulled Yaden up onto his feet and out onto the corridor. Those psions were clueless to a degree that bordered on dangerous, and the last thing he would do was to leave his love even a second longer under their roof than absolutely necessary.

Even if that meant he was now officially harbouring an unregistered, fugitive psychic.

Pulling Yaden down the corridor was much less of a problem than he had thought. Apparently, the 'situation' genuinely demanded a lot of psions, for they didn't even meet a single person on their way out of the sprawling mansion. Which was all the better in Sam's eyes, as his lover's mood was at least as turbulent as the weather outside. And they really, really could do without any other complications.

The entrance hall was eerily empty as well, and the huge main door was merely shut, not locked or 'magically' sealed. Calmly but firmly, Sam pushed Yaden outside, closing the door as softly as possible with a thing of that size.

The thunderstorm apparently was calming down as swiftly as it had appeared, and besides the pouring rain, there was only a soft rumbling to be heard in the distance. The rain also brought fresh, clean air into the city, and both Sam and Yaden took a deep breath as they stopped at the end of the covered walkway, looking out into the rain.

“I am sorry they couldn't help.” Yaden said suddenly, tugging Sam's arm a little closer to himself. “'Would have been nice if they had just given me a badge and ignored the whole thing.”

“Oh good heavens,” Sam exclaimed. “It's not your fault, darling, please. Those guys were idiots.”

“Yeah, apart from that.” For a heartbeat, Yaden just held Sam's hand tightly. Then he gave a soft sigh. “Where to now?”

“We go fix this.” he replied instantly. Even if Sam didn't exactly know how to fix it nor what 'it' actually was. “Well, first we will need some kind of confirmation that you're not possessed by a demon.” Yaden snorted so derisively that Sam had to grin. “And I think I already know where we're going to get something like that.”

“Really?”

“I know a certain Aroona priest who comes to the kebab shack every other evening for his dinner. And I would bet my left eyebrow that he will be about as pissed as we are about that 'demonic possession' thing.”

Thinking of Father Rudger and his well-known and often-voiced misgivings towards guilds of any kind, Yaden smiled despite himself.

“Yeah well, that might even work. If I were to disappear in the dungeons of the guild, where would he get his daily dose of gossip and grilled meat?”

“See?” Planting a swift kiss on Yaden's forehead, Sam stepped out onto the pavement. “Come on, the rain's dying down already. And I really don't want to be still standing here before they wake up and realize we are gone.”

“Good idea,” Yaden agreed, following him swiftly. “What about we get us a taxi? I know it's expensive, but I think this qualifies as an emergency.”

“That's an even better idea.” Smiling, Sam took out his usually strictly-for-work cellphone, careful not to get too much rain onto the expensive gadget. “If this were any more of an emergency, I'd be calling my colleagues, not a taxi.”

And he knew he would, actually. He didn't care if his husband-to-be was an illegal, unregistered psychic. He didn't care what his colleagues would say. He only cared that his love was safe and happy, and that no one would come one day and tear them apart.

Actually, all this sudden criminal energy was rather scary. Especially considering how boring he had been mere four weeks ago, Sam realized with a tiny, wicked smile.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh good Lord,” Sam gasped between bouts of irrepressible laughter. “That was the most adorkable thing I have ever seen.”

“What!?” Yaden exclaimed, also laughing and just a little defiant. “I told you I can't dance. At least not like that!”

Instead of an answer, Sam grabbed his lover's face and kissed him. They were sweaty, tired and exhausted, standing out on the street in the gentle cool drizzle, but they were feeling blissfully happy.

The entrance to the 'dance club' they had just left was nothing more than a dark gap in the building behind them, the thumping rhythms from below muted but still loud enough to be felt through the soles of Sam's shoes. Above them, the tall, forbidding towers of Ridge rose into the late night sky, dark and reflecting, and a light drizzle was falling. A perfect night out in Imperial City.

“I know what you said,” Sam replied when they finally separated, calmer now but still grinning widely. “But I really didn't think it would be that bad.”

“Pah.” Blinking up into the patch of sky above then, Yaden searched if he could see the first sign of dawn already. “We really should be getting home. I'm supposed to be on the market in a few hours.”

Calmly, Sam nodded.

It had been a fool's idea anyway to close the Kebab Shack earlier today and go dancing. Actually, it had been Father Rudger's idea, but then again, he was a little on the odd side himself.  
The Aroona priest had been livid with anger about the treatment Yaden had encountered at the psions' guild, and had more than eagerly provided the necessary paperwork to prove that Yaden was by no means possessed by a demon. More than that, he also had promised to have a stern talking to the guild, and to arrange for Yaden's registration to be processed properly and without any further visits. Father Rudger had been positive that Yaden was a psychic, but also that the memory loss was severe and beyond his own meagre healing skills. They would have to seek audience at the main temple one of these days, but Rudger had insisted on talking to his fellow clerics to get them a proper contact.

Sam wasn't too sure if it all would help, but the Aroona were a group not lightly angered. At least, he was not too worried any more that a bunch of psychics would suddenly show up and abduct his lover.

Thinking of Yaden made him remember the other man's clueless but very lively performance on the dance-floor, renewing the smile on his face.

Instead of any kind of proper payment, Father Rudger had insisted that they needed a healing experience, and basically ordered them to go out for a beer and a dance. Considering that the sun was about to come up any time now, it had been a good idea, and a well-deserved and needed distraction from the chaos of the last days.

“What about we take a short-cut over the catwalks?” Sam suggested, pointing at the network of walkways and bridges that connected the skyscrapers with each other. “I know a short-cut that would lead us right to Nesrin Towers Station, and from there we can catch a tram directly back Downtown.”

“You sure?” Yaden asked, still moving to the memory of music in his ears. “It's a maze up there, I surely wouldn't know how to get anywhere.”

“Well, there IS an advantage in dating a DC officer,” Sam replied with a smirk. “I've been on patrol almost everywhere here, and believe me, if nothing else, I know my way around this town.”

In reply, Yaden smiled fondly at his lover, and gestured Sam to lead the way, while he was still silently dancing tiny, barefooted steps to some music audible to his ears only.  
The two men silently made their way along the dark and badly lit road along the building, until Sam had found the staircase he had been looking for. The catwalks were a network of bridges, ramps and roof terraces that connected the countless skyscrapers of Ridge with each other, just a few stories above ground. They allowed pedestrians to get from one place to another without being forced to go down onto the narrow, dirty streets brimming with heavy vehicles. During daytime, shops and offices opened along the catwalks, turning them into some kind of wide-spread mall. But even at night they were a perfectly neat, clean and well-lit way of getting from A to B, provided one knew where to find the next proper connection.

Getting up onto the catwalks wasn't easy, as stairs outside the buildings leading down to street level were rare, but as he had said, Sam's job wasn't without its perks. Soon, they were up on what looked like a long, well-lit balcony, with Yaden still stepping in tune with some unheard melody. Sam was just about to tell Yaden to stop dawdling as the other man suddenly stepped sideways in what looked decidedly like a well-rehearsed classic dance move.

“Look at this!” Yaden exclaimed, eager with excitement. “It wasn't me, it was the music! The music was wrong!”

“Dear, you are making no sense...”

“I knew I could dance, I always felt it in me. But the music was wrong.” Now smiling widely, Yaden came up to his lover, holding out his hands in a classic gesture. “May I ask for this dance, milord?”

“Huh?” Sam guffawed, struggling between joy at Yaden having found something he remembered and the deep irritation that it was obviously frilly ballroom-style dancing. Not a skill any commoner should have, really. But the joy won out almost instantly, and a little confused, Sam tried to figure out how to hold his own hands when he wasn't leading. “Like that?”

“No, wait.” With only a heartbeat’s hesitation, Yaden adjusted Sam's stance. “Here.”

And suddenly, with hardly any effort, Yaden led them both into a gentle waltz along the catwalk, gleaming with excitement at his newly remembered skill.

“You're really good at this,” Sam said softly, gentle disbelief in his voice. “I only ever dance like this at the police ball, and even then I try to avoid it if I can.”

“Nah, I am just warming up.” Yaden replied with a wriggle of his eyebrows, and suddenly stepped up the speed, pulling Sam in a series of elegant spins, twirling both of them around a corner of the walkway.  
Giving a startled laugh, Sam tried to keep up, but he was definitely out of his depths. Soon enough, he stumbled over his own feet, falling and pulling Yaden with him. Now both laughing loudly, they remained lying in a tangled heap on the floor, happy and cuddling like they were all alone. Which, given the early hour, probably even was the case.

“I love you,” Sam whispered gently once they had calmed down a little. “But it's still raining, and we really should be getting home.”

Yaden replied with a chuckle and a soft kiss on Sam's forehead.

“Love you, too.” Getting up, he shook his head. “Ballroom dancing. Why in all the Empire would I know anything about that?”

“No idea at all.” Gathering himself up from the ground as well, Sam looked around, trying to figure out the shortest way towards Nesrin Towers and the eponymous tram station. “Maybe you had 'aspirations of grandeur' in your former life?”

“God forbid!” Yaden exclaimed, only half mocking. “I don't want to come any closer to a noble than having the emperor's portrait hanging over my shop's door.” Gently sneaking his arm around Sam's waist, he hugged him tight. “Being with you is all I ‘aspire’ to.”

Unable to find anything adequate to reply to this, Sam merely drew Yaden closer, kissing his hair, misted with the fine drizzle. Fugitive psychic or not, this was the man he would spend the rest of his life with, Sam reminded himself once again. Even if he just barely fits under my chin.

For a while, they walked in amiable silence, arm in arm, along the deserted catwalks. It was a lovely night, and even the fine rain seemed to belong into the picture. Just a pair of lovers, walking through the capital at night, like the last frame of some cheesy romance movie.

They had already covered a little more than half their way to the tram station when Yaden suddenly grabbed Sam's arm and stopped both of them at a corner.

“Something's wrong,” he whispered urgently, looking around as if expecting to see armed terrorists somewhere hiding in a dark corner.

“Darling, what - “ Sam tried to ask, but was cut short by an oddly sharp gesture from his lover, motioning him to stay silent.

Instead of trying to argue, Sam shrugged inwardly. Maybe Yaden's talent wasn't limited to telekinesis. Maybe he was also an oracle, or telepathic. Or maybe he was just tired and overwrought and urgently needed a good night's sleep.  
Whatever the cause, Sam silently looked around, trying to help figure out whatever his lover thought was amiss. There was little to see, an open square ahead, lots of railings, some stairs and skyscrapers rising above and below them to infinity. The two round, white-and-blue-lit Nesrin Towers were already visible as a narrow band of light between the buildings ahead, but so far, so normal.

“Over there,” Yaden whispered only seconds later. “Across the square, the lit store-front.”

Sam followed Yaden's gesture, and sure enough, there was a line of brightly lit windows a little ahead of them, overlooking the Square they had been about to cross. Large canvasses were hanging on display in the windows, and behind them, Sam could see people moving, commoners, by the clothes they were wearing.  
At first, it looked like a late party in one of the local galleries, but then Sam also noticed how small and stressed the movements of those guests were, and finally he spotted an arm in dark combat fatigues holding what unmistakeably looked like a machine gun, pointing at the guests.

“Good Lord,” Sam whispered between his teeth without taking his eyes of the heist-in-progress right in front of them. “How'd you notice that?!”

“No idea.”

Standing close to the wall, they were all but invisible from inside the gallery, and yet Sam found himself protectively moving between Yaden and some potential attacker.

Looking closer, it was obvious that a group of late-night vernissage guests were held hostage by a handful of dark-clad thugs, probably being robbed.

“We have to do something.” Yaden suddenly said softly. “We can't just stand by.”

If Yaden hadn't been here, that would have been Sam's whole-hearted opinion, too. But things being as they were, he had other priorities than saving innocent citizens of the empire. He had one very special innocent citizen to protect.

So instead of clipping on his energy-shield and storming the place, he just fumbled his cell-phone out of his pocket.

“Of course we'll do something,” he said while dialling the DC emergency hotline, trying to muffle the beeping sounds a well as he could with his jacket. “I'll call reinforcements, and then we'll stay well away from anything that - “

“No.” Yaden softly said, staring around the corner. There was an edge to his voice that Sam hadn't heard before, except maybe in Reichenbach's room at the psions' guild. And it wasn't a tone Sam liked to hear. “We can't just stay by and watch while they gun down all those people.”

“But there's nothing we can do.” Sam tried to explain urgently while waiting for someone to pick up his call. “Look, we're both unarmed, and you have no combat experience, and we really – Yes? Yes, Officer Balmoral here, I have a code four-four-seven, requesting immediate assistance.”

Waiting for the guy on the other end of the line to type down the appropriate notes, Sam watched in wordless stupefaction as Yaden slid around the corner they had been hiding behind, sneaking across the square towards the entrance of the gallery. His bare feet weren't making any sound on the moist concrete ground, and he moved as if he had been doing this all his life, hiding behind planters and benches so efficiently that Sam had a hard time keeping track of him.

“Yaden!” he hissed into the night, but his lover didn't even look back. Only then he realized that the guy on the other end of the line was still talking to him. “What?! No. Hurry, there's some civilian trying to be a hero. Dammit, just get someone to pinpoint my position and then 'port the damn troops here!”

With deep sigh and a nervous flutter in his chest, Sam jammed the cell-phone back into his pocket, searching the square for his lover. Maybe it wasn't too late, yet.

But apparently, he wasn't that lucky tonight.

Much to his despair, he found his beloved kebab-shack owner standing right in the middle of the gallery's entrance, both hands raised and talking. Across the square, Sam couldn't make out what Yaden was saying, but actually, that was one of his smallest concerns right now.

Realizing he had run out of options, Sam reached for the small shield projector he was carrying on his wrist like a good-luck bracelet. He started to run towards the gallery, and sighed with relief as he felt the familiar, soft touch of static envelope him. The tiny battery wouldn't last long, but for the time being, it would be very hard to harm him with anything below a military-grade blaster rifle. Which, hopefully, had not been on the thugs’ equipment list tonight.

Ahead of him, he could see Yaden move further into the gallery, and he could he people shouting. Shouting was better then shooting, but still far from good.

He crossed he last meters in a rush and stormed into the well-lit gallery. Years of training kicked in and took over his reflexes, and it just took him half a heartbeat to scan the room.

A huddled mass of civilians at the far wall.  
Yaden, his hands raised defensively, two armed men with guns in front of him.  
Another dark-clad thug, right next to the entrance, less than half a step away from Sam.  
Holding a small machine gun like it was a power drill.

It didn't take any time for Sam to decide where to get his weapon from. Instead, he used the remaining momentum of his run to slam into the thug at the door, grabbing his gun and holding it tight. With the man dazzled by the unexpected impact, Sam let himself drop onto the floor and to the right, twisting the gun out of the thug's hand.

Without a shield, such a manoeuvre would have been suicidal, but right now, Sam knew he had still a few seconds of relative invulnerability left.

If the thug pulled the trigger or if Sam accidentally did it himself was moot point. Whatever the cause, he hardly registered the impact, the shield taking any kinetic energy out of the bullets until they had about the force of a handful of peas thrown at him.

A second later, he was up on his feet again, slamming the rear end of the gun into the thugs face with enough force to hear the wet crunch of breaking bones. The man was out cold, but Sam was already turning around to see how he could help Yaden in his miserable situation.

Only that Yaden's situation seemed to be all but miserable right now.

Of the two men who had been facing him, one was kneeling right in front of Yaden, holding his hands as if in unimaginable pain. The other one was just raising his rifle, aiming at Yaden, as a sudden gesture of Sam's lover sent his gun flying across the room. With a yell of surprise, the thug tried to hurl himself at Yaden, but was stopped dead in his tracks by a mere gesture. With nothing but a flick of his wrist, Yaden hurled the man across the room against a wall, where he remained, spread-eagled in an improbable position, glued to the wall like a fly to duct tape.

Nothing of this made any real sense to Sam, but all his questions would have to wait until this was over. After all, Yaden seemed to work with a certain, completely inappropriate professionalism, and there were other, much more pressing matters at hand.

Matters like thugs number four and five, who had apparently been guarding the rear entrance and were now storming into the room, trying to find out what was happening. Unfortunately, they were coming out of a hallway right behind Yaden's back, and aiming their guns at him almost instantly.

Sam didn't even think. The gun in his hands wasn't any of the weapons he had been trained with, but he was still a sufficiently good shot with it at such a short distance.  
The two last robbers died in an automatic blast of bullets that painted the wall behind them in a violent red spray. Daring such a robbery without energy-shields was a risky business, after all.

“Yaden, are you all right?!” Sam asked first thing as no more attackers showed up.

“I... I am unhurt.”

His lover's voice sounded shaky, and it was filled with so much insecurity that it pained Sam more than he would have thought possible. Yaden was still standing there with his hands raised, but now that Sam had time for a second glance, he realized that Yaden's hands were not raised in defence.  
Actually, their gestures matched the postures of the thugs he had been facing, one crumbled on the ground, the other one flat against the wall, immobilized. Sam had no knowledge of the particulars of psionic powers other than what he had learned in threat-assessment class, but he was very sure that his lover's style was something that hadn't been mentioned.

“It'll be all right, love.” Sam said, trying to sound as confident as he could. Obviously, Yaden hardly understood what he was doing himself and was in dire need of a hug, but that would have to wait until this was over. “It'll be all right.”

Swiftly, Sam checked the two adjoining rooms for any more attackers, but as it seemed there had only been five of them. Relief flooded through him, and he walked over to the one thug kneeling in front of Yaden, who was still gently rocking back and forth in pain. Looking for a way to restrain the man until the reinforcements arrived, Sam suddenly felt the soft mental disorientation that he had learned was normal when a psychic 'hijacked' his sensory input to prepare a teleport.

Less than a heartbeat later, the floor around him started glowing red with projected 'porting circles, warning everyone in the vicinity of an incoming teleport. And merely another heartbeat later, all those circles were filled with DC officers in their grey and purple combat armour, arms ready, securing the whole room in less time than it took the commoners present to realized the police had arrived. Almost two dozen men and women in purple uniforms, each one of them as calm and professional as possible.

Hardly ever before had Sam been that proud to be member of the best-trained and best equipped security force of the whole Empire. Definitely, there were perks in dating a Ducal Crescents officer.

“All clear!” Sam yelled instantly, just trying to make sure there would be no unfortunate misunderstandings. “Secure perimeter!”

As if having trained exactly this scenario a hundred times before, most of the DCs swarmed out of the room, leaving only a handful of men. With a swift gesture, Sam pointed out the two thugs who had been held by Yaden and the third one he had beaten unconscious. Instantly, some officers were at their sides, tying them down and making sure they wouldn't be going anywhere for a long time to come.

“Officer Balmoral,” one of the DCs said firmly, tipping the side of his helmet. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, yes, I think so.” Another wave of relief ran through Sam, right as he felt the static of his shield fizzle and run off him. “But I think you should have a look at my partner...”

Looking around, Sam tried to find Yaden in the chaos of relieved commoners and grey-armoured DCs. But apparently, his lover had managed to sneak out of the room once the police had arrived. A remarkable feat on its own, but rather worrying considering the shock and confusion Yaden had been in.

“Never mind, Captain... Peters.” Sam tried to lie as smoothly as possible. “He'll be somewhere here, I am sure.”

But Yaden didn't show up until Sam's colleagues were done taking their notes and making Sam promise he would show up the very next day down at the precinct to give his report. Of course he promised, but the only thought on his mind was that he had no clue where to find Yaden.

His only hope was that Yaden had gone to the only place he felt safe at; to the only place they both had been happy.

He hoped that Yaden had gone home.

\---

“Oh good Lord, here you are!”

It had taken Sam some time to get rid of his colleagues trying to help him find his missing lover. In the end, they had contented giving him a lift back to Downtown.

Finding Yaden's wet clothes in a messy pile in his room had been an immeasurable relief to Sam already, but it had still taken him quite some time to figure out where his lover was actually hiding. Only when Sam had noticed that the small roof window over the stairs that led from the kitchen to their bedroom was standing wide open, he had gotten the idea.

Climbing up to the roof wasn't exactly easy for someone with shoulders as wide as Sam's, but it hadn't been a real hindrance, either.

And there, sitting on the glossy rooftop amid patches of moss, looking down at the Empire's capital, he had found Yaden under a large umbrella against the soft rain, his knees pulled up, huddled around a bottle of really expensive Shirazan eau-de-vie.

Without a word, Sam climbed up the roof and sat down next to Yaden. Behind them, the sky was already turning grey with the first light of dawn, and the air was carrying that distinct chill that came with the late hour and a night without sleep.

Yaden had chosen a beautiful place for his musings, Sam had to admit as they sat there, none of them exactly sure of what to say.

Downtown was high up on a slope, nestled against the fortified outer walls of the Imperial Palace, and the view down from the roof of the Kebab-Shack was spectacular. The Nesrin Towers in Ridge were two gleaming exclamation marks against the dark sky of the late night to their right. Straight ahead, the small waves of the bay reflected the moonlight, and behind that, there was the pitch-black strip of the Undercity. The gaudily lit ferris-wheel of the Amadeus Memorial Park was visible from here, and even the gold and rose domes of the Old Opera could be seen as a smudge of light on the rain-washed horizon. To their left, the embassies of the noble houses were gleaming on their high cliff, trying to outshine each other like they did every night.

“I am so afraid.” Yaden said finally, looking at Sam for the first time since he had come up onto the roof.

“Of what?”

“I... I love you.”

“And that scares you?”

“No, you idiot!” Yaden underlined his reply with a deft smack against Sam's shoulder. “I am happy with you, very happy.”

“So what's wrong?”

Yaden hesitated a moment before he answered. “I don't want to be some dangerous killer-psychic.”

“But you aren't -”

“Oh please, Sam! I know you want this as little as I do, but seriously. Those little things that come up, those few things I remember – it's pretty bad.”

For a moment, Sam was struggling to find anything appropriate to say. He knew Yaden was right, he knew he had tried so hard to tell himself everything would be fine, that he had wilfully ignored what had happened around him.

“Maybe,” he finally replied. “But I won't let any of this get between us. I love you, too, you know?”

With a soft, sad chuckle, Yaden dropped his head against Sam's shoulder.

“I know you do. But will I still love you when I remember? I don't like that person that I apparently was before I lost my memories. Everything I remember makes me wish I hadn't.”

“It can't be that bad.”

“You think?” Yaden all but snorted in disgust. “Take tonight. I was holding those two men by their fucking bones, and it was easy. Throwing one of them across the room didn't take much more effort for me than moving my hand. And I knew how to fight with those powers I have. That wasn't the first time I fought, and I felt entirely safe. I still remember thinking that those guns couldn't hurt me, because they use metal bullets and I would be able to stop them before they could harm anyone.” Giving a deep sigh, Yaden took Sam's hand, holding it tightly. “Whatever I was before I came here, I damn sure as hell was not working in a fast-food-restaurant.”

“Why not? Maybe that was your day job.” Sam tried to suggest, half-joking. “Maybe you were some kind of agent for the psions' guild, or a member of the Imperial Special Forces, something like that.”

“I don't think so.” Yaden said with another mirthless chuckle. “And you know why I think I can be sure of that? Remember my 'secret' spice rub, the one in the box labelled 'secret spice rub'?”

“Sure. It's one of the many reasons your shop is going as well as it is.”

“Exactly. And even after tasting it and trying for more than a week now, I have no clue what's in there. I bet my arm it's not made of anything I have down in the kitchen.”

“Maybe it's just some pre-made stuff you buy on the bazaar and just put it into another box here.”

“Whatever it is, Sam, I am afraid of my life here being nothing but a lie.”

Was it really, Sam wondered silently. Because, all that was left of Yaden with all his memories gone had been the sweet, caring, naughty guy he had fallen in love with in the first place. Maybe it had been Yaden's old life that had been a lie all over.

“I can understand that you're worried, but I am not afraid.” Gently stroking Yaden's hair, Sam smiled softly. “You love me, don't you?”

“Sure, that's part of the problem.”

“Then that's one thing that's not a lie.” Sam's smile widened as Yaden looked up, still tired and worn-out but with a tiny hopeful smile of his own. “And that's the most important thing. All else, we can manage. Together.”

“I hope you are right.” Silently, he took another long sip out of the bottle of Shirazan brandy he had been cradling. “I really hope you are.”

“I am, trust me.” Taking the bottle Yaden offered him, Sam took a sip as well, shuddering at the burning in his throat. “And there is one more thing I am very certain of.”

Yaden looked up again, curious.

“I am very certain that we have to get off this roof, pretty as the view may be.” Sam grinned at Yaden's exasperated grimace. “We're both cold and tired, and we can't sleep up here. And we really should get some sleep before we go to the market tomorrow.”

“Today, you mean...”

“Whatever.” Smiling gently, he stood up, holding out his hand to his lover. “Come on, dangerous killer-psychic of my life. I need to get out of these clothes and into your bed.”

“Oh, I'll gladly help you with that,” Yaden replied, his eye finally gleaming again with that dirty edge that Sam had missed so much. “And maybe you'll even get some sleep later on...”


	6. Chapter 6

The early morning produce market of Imperial City was one of the most colourful, exciting and plain chaotic sights in the whole empire.

Traders and customers from all over the Empire were milling among the stalls, slaves, commoners and nobles alike. Humans, aliens, demons and other less definable creatures were hawking wares from all the known worlds and then some more, voices calling in accented Imperial, others in Youh'Kai or rarer languages. All the offered goods were considered edible by one ore more races of the Empire, some were already prepared meals, others still looked suspiciously alive. The air was filled with a confusing amount of scents and smells, the bleating of carriage animals and the buzz of small gliders overhead.

It would have been a maddening experience even if Sam had slept more than three hours this night. But as things were, he felt pretty hungover despite not having had any significant amount of alcohol. So Sam had just put on his sunglasses and hoped no one would notice he was barely awake.

Most unfairly, Yaden appeared to be perfectly happy with a night as short as the last one. Some steps ahead of Sam, laughing with the merchant he was trying to haggle some lettuce from, he seemed cheerful and carefree as any other day, last night's events all but forgotten.

But Sam had some trouble getting over the things that had happened in the gallery, and the things Yaden had said later that night on the roof.  
Sure, he was still convinced that whatever happened, they would manage to face things together. He knew in his heart that Yaden loved him as much as Sam loved him.  
But now, in the unforgiving light of a crisp, late morning, Sam was no longer so absolutely sure they would manage to keep their lifes together, after all. Yaden was a psychic, and a strong one at that. And he was trained in combat, well-trained and undeniably a seasoned fighter. All that made him a one-in-a-million talent, and men like that were hardly allowed to run kebab-shacks somewhere in an irrelevant corner of the capital. Whether it would be the psions' guild, or the church or the Emperor, sooner or later Yaden would remember who he had been working for.

And they would come for him.

With a little luck, they wouldn't force him back into service. But they would try to get him back, no doubt about that. They would bribe him with money, adventures, anything. They would threaten Sam, and bribe or blackmail him to leave Yaden. Sooner or later, his status as a Ducal Crescent wouldn't be a sufficient protection any longer, and he would just end up dead in some dark alley or simply disappear for good.

Whatever would happen, it wasn't anything normal people could usually survive. At least not together.

The inevitability of the whole thing made Sam physically sick. But then again, maybe it was merely the fact that he hadn't eating anything today so far. He had just crawled out of bed when Yaden's alarm had rung, red-eyed and struggling to keep awake. Breakfast had been postponed until after the market, as they had already been running rather late.

But now, Sam found himself longing for something solid in his stomach. Comfort food in the most literal sense of the word. Casting a swift glance over at Yaden who still seemed to be amiably discussing today's prices, Sam decided it wouldn't harm if he got him some quick bite to eat.  
They were at the place where all quality food of the capital came from, after all. So it didn't take him long to find something that smelled good, and he just followed his nose to a small stall that sold blob-on-a-stick, the unofficial signature snack of the capital. Most probably, one of the small, deep-fried molluscs would improve his mood significantly. Not a sure-fire-solution as Malicornian bacon, but still.

A little too rushed to properly pick his own blob from a barrel, Sam just ordered one of those already fried and a decent helping of hot spices and sweet-and-sour sauce. Nothing he'd usually eat for breakfast, but then again, unusual times called for unusual measures. All the time, he had carefully kept an eye out for Yaden's bundle of dreadlocks, making sure he had at least a rough idea where his lover was.

The first bite of his blob-on-a-stick was just as Sam had hoped – crisp and spicy on the outside, soft and juicy within. Prices here on the market were admittedly hefty, but the quality was impeccable.

Sam tried to catch up with Yaden who had apparently move on to the next stall, but then lost sight of his hair among the countless other heads after a few strides. It took him only a few moments to find Yaden again, but when he did, he felt his heart sinking despite the warm feeling of a blob in his belly.

Yaden was standing between two stalls, two large bags of groceries and meat next to him. He was obviously arguing with another man standing next to him, and guessing from his expression and rude gestures, he was just a blob-stick's width away from hitting him.

Most unfortunately, that man was a noble.

No one else would wear head-to-toe black in public if not a Dracon, and even though Sam couldn't see from where he was standing, he was sure there was a coiled red dragon proudly displayed somewhere on the man's chest.

With sudden urgency, Sam tried to reach Yaden before things got out of control. Raising your hand against a noble was a grave offence, and even though Sam was sure he would find ways to protect Yaden from the worst, it would not pass without a serious flogging. For a heartbeat, Sam regretted not putting on his uniform this morning. That would have helped tremendously now.

Advancing as swiftly as possible though the tightly packed shoppers, he sent a tiny prayer to whatever deity might have been listening that he wouldn't be too late.

And apparently, his prayers were answered.

A few meters before he reached the corner where he had seen Yaden threatening the noble, Sam all but bumped into his lover. A swift look showed him that the noble was still standing where he had been the whole time, watching them curiously.

“Let's go.” Yaden snapped, his voice deep and grumbling with barely contained anger. “I have everything we need.”

Nothing Sam wanted more than that.

“Who was that?” he asked while simultaneously taking one of the bags from Yaden. “Looked like a Dracon.”

“Fucking crazy asshole!” Yaden hissed, passing Sam and walking on, briskly, without even losing one step. “Shit fucking crazy!”

“Oh.”

Instead of aggravating Yaden even more by insisting on a proper answer, Sam just looked over his shoulder, searching for the offending noble.  
The Dracon was still looking at them, or rather, looking directly at Sam with his head slightly cocked and an odd expression that shifted between worried, exhausted and amused. There was nothing of the usual noble arrogance in his face, and even though they only looked at each other for a few seconds, Sam could have sworn the other man tried to give him a friendly smile.  
That was rather distressing behaviour for a noble, indeed.

But right now, Sam had to concentrate on keeping up with his lover, who stomped across the market with little regard for the other shoppers and only marginally more for Sam. He was fuming with anger, and most obviously not in the mood to talk. Whatever had happened between the two of them, Sam would have to wait until they were back at the kebab-shack to get some answers.

\---

“Now, who was that Dracon?”

For a long moment, Yaden didn't answer and instead concentrated on the long piece of meat he was intent on cutting to chops for tonight's menu. Using a butcher's cleaver, he hacked at the bones that still kept the pieces together, pausing between each chop.

“Yaden? What did he say? Are you in trouble?”

“No, I'm not, I mean, yes. Oh god, Sam, I don't know. I am sorry. I... I just need a moment.”

They had returned from the marked in silence, Yaden grim and worried, and Sam calm and increasingly worried, too. Only when Yaden had started working in the kitchen, with Sam sitting on the first steps of the stairs, the silence had become oppressive.

“He said he knows me,” Yaden explained finally.

“But – that's a good thing, isn't it?”

“He said he was my husband.”

Instantly, Sam was glad he was already sitting down. Of all the possible complications, this was one thing he had never even thought of. Never dared to think of.

“You are married?!” he asked, incredulous and half way hoping Yaden would deny everything.

But instead of giving a heart-felt denial, Yaden just looked up from his butchering job, smiling softly.

“Of all people, of course you would be the only one to overlook the real problem.” He actually sounded somewhat proud. “God, I love you so.“

It took Sam quite a moment to realize what 'the real problem' was.

“You are a noble?”

“Sam, please.” With emphasis, he hacked at the chops once more. “Do I look like a noble to you?”

“No, not really.” This all sounded just a little too weird in his ears. “You don't believe him, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“That... didn't sound as convinced as I hoped it would be.”

Instead of an answer, Yaden pointed at one of the market-bags with his cleaver.

“He gave me a bag of my 'secret spice rub'. Said I had to be running out of it by now.”

This all made so little sense that Sam felt his head spinning. Almost as if trying to prove Yaden wrong, he stood up and walked over to the counter where the bag was lying.  
But sure enough, there was a smaller bag of spices inside, smelling just like the contents of the box Yaden always kept on the top shelf of his spice-rack. Even more disconcertingly, the bag was marked 'secret spice rub' in the same, neat handwriting that labelled all of Yaden's other spice boxes.  
Sam put the spices back into the bag, a little too abruptly to make it look nonchalantly. It rather looked as if he was trying to hide unwanted evidence.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this,” Sam stated, half hoping, half trying to convince himself.

Yaden didn't even react, only continued to grimly butcher the meat in front of him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Now, who was that Dracon?”

For a long moment, Yaden didn't answer and instead concentrated on the long piece of meat he was intent on cutting to chops for tonight's menu. Using a butcher's cleaver, he hacked at the bones that still kept the pieces together, pausing between each chop.

“Yaden? What did he say? Are you in trouble?”

“No, I'm not, I mean, yes. Oh god, Sam, I don't know. I am sorry. I... I just need a moment.”

They had returned from the marked in silence, Yaden grim and worried, and Sam calm and increasingly worried, too. Only when Yaden had started working in the kitchen, with Sam sitting on the first steps of the stairs, the silence had become oppressive.

“He said he knows me,” Yaden explained finally.

“But – that's a good thing, isn't it?”

“He said he was my husband.”

Instantly, Sam was glad he was already sitting down. Of all the possible complications, this was one thing he had never even thought of. Never dared to think of.

“You are married?!” he asked, incredulous and half way hoping Yaden would deny everything.

But instead of giving a heart-felt denial, Yaden just looked up from his butchering job, smiling softly.

“Of all people, of course you would be the only one to overlook the real problem.” He actually sounded somewhat proud. “God, I love you so.“

It took Sam quite a moment to realize what 'the real problem' was.

“You are a noble?”

“Sam, please.” With emphasis, he hacked at the chops once more. “Do I look like a noble to you?”

“No, not really.” This all sounded just a little too weird in his ears. “You don't believe him, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“That... didn't sound as convinced as I hoped it would be.”

Instead of an answer, Yaden pointed at one of the market-bags with his cleaver.

“He gave me a bag of my 'secret spice rub'. Said I had to be running out of it by now.”

This all made so little sense that Sam felt his head spinning. Almost as if trying to prove Yaden wrong, he stood up and walked over to the counter where the bag was lying.  
But sure enough, there was a smaller bag of spices inside, smelling just like the contents of the box Yaden always kept on the top shelf of his spice-rack. Even more disconcertingly, the bag was marked 'secret spice rub' in the same, neat handwriting that labelled all of Yaden's other spice boxes.  
Sam put the spices back into the bag, a little too abruptly to make it look nonchalantly. It rather looked as if he was trying to hide unwanted evidence.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this,” Sam stated, half hoping, half trying to convince himself.

Yaden didn't even react, only continued to grimly butcher the meat in front of him.

Right into this awkward silence, Sam's mobile phone started ringing. As only his headquarters had the number, he didn't even look at the display before picking up.

“Yes?”

“Am I speaking to Officer Balmoral?” A man's voice, calm, but with an undeniable edge of urgency and sorely tested patience.

“Who's there?” Sam asked, though he already had a creeping notion about the answer. “How'd you get this number?!”

“I am Sir Colin of House Dracon, we saw each other on the market this morning.” The voice of the other end of the line matched the man Sam had seen smiling so quizzically at him. “And about your number, I called your employer, and he gave it to me.”

Despite everything he had learned about conduct in face of nobility, Sam felt seething anger rise in him. They hadn't done anything wrong, couldn't they just leave them alone?

“What do you want?”

“We need to talk. Urgently. About... your boyfriend.”

“What's so special about him, can't you just leave us alone?!”

“He's more special than you can possibly know, and you're both in danger if this - “

“Now listen to me, 'Sir Colin',” Sam interrupted the noble rudely, his voice caustic with warning. “Maybe you want to talk, but we don't want to. We don't want anything of you in our lifes, and we're pretty damn fine without you. SO GET LOST!”

And then he disconnected the line, only barely managing not to hurl the phone against the far wall. With a deep sigh, Sam leaned against the cupboard he had been standing next to, his hands shaking with anger and fear.

Yaden just stood there, the bloody cleaver in his hands, frozen in the middle of a motion, staring at Sam.

“That was him, wasn't it?” Yaden finally said, his voice kicking Sam out of the mental loop he had crashed into.

“Yes. They're already looking for you.” Sam had known it would only be a matter of time, but this had been really fast. “I – I'll think of something. But maybe we should start packing.”

There. It sounded so ridiculously easy.  
Pack your things, run away, start a new life, live happily ever after.

But probably, that's right what Yaden had been doing before he arrived to open the Kebab Shack. Dreaming of a simple life, a husband, and a total lack of adventures. Well, obviously that had worked out perfectly this time.

But where could they run to? There was no safe place for them if the nobility was involved. At least not in the empire...  
Instantly Sam's mind kicked into overdrive, inverting everything he had learned about apprehending fugitive criminals.  
With a little bit of luck, they might be able to catch a group teleport to Guild Central, where the grip of the nobles was as weak as it could get in the Phoenix Empire. Among the billions of people living there, it could be well possible to get lost, if only for a short while. Until then, they might already have boarded a freighter to the Coron Nations, paying cash, leaving no paper trail for any agents to follow...

\--Officer Balmoral?--

The telepathic call reached Sam's mind as clearly as if the person were speaking next to him. There was also none of the muddled, half-thought words, flitting images and barely muted emotions he usually got in his mind when talking to one of the telepathic operators working for the DCs. Just clear, crisp words that could as well have been typed into his mind.

Sam felt his hope of a clean getaway dissolve like ice in the desert.

\--Yes?-- he thought as he had learned to do, trying to gather some hope that this call would, miraculously, bring the direly needed solution to all this mess.

\--This is P2 Prime speaking. I have a call from Sir Colin for you. And, with all due respect, I suggest you take it.--

Sam almost laughed out loud with despair. What was happening to his life? P2 Prime was the head of the psions' guild here on P2, one of the most powerful and respected psychics in the whole damn empire. If P2 Prime was acting the operator girl for Sir Colin, that didn't bode well for them.

\--Do I have a choice?--

\--I will not force this call on you, if that is your question.-- Sam wasn't sure, but it seemed to him as if P2 Prime was smiling at his end of the line. --But Sir Colin is an honourable man, and if he told me I needed his help, I'd at least listen...--

There was nothing but urgent sincerity in the prime's mental voice, and the deep and encompassing desire to help. Of course, that could be an elaborate lie, but then again, why should P2 Prime be lying? After all Sam knew about prime-level psions, he could just as well command him to do his bidding or kill him with a mere thought. Sure, most the things he knew about psions he had taken out of movies and the two threat-assessment classes he had had on the subject. But whatever the precise options, Sam was well aware that there was no point in arguing.

\--Put him through, then.--

There was not so much an answer of P2 Prime but the mental image of a silent nod. Then Sam felt a subtle shift as the telepath's mind seemed to recede and another presence in the back of his head gained prominence.

\--Officer Balmoral? Please, don't kick me out, this is important.--

Sir Colin's mental voice sounded surprisingly close to his physical one, but unlike P2 Prime, his thoughts came with a wave of emotions and images that seeped out of every word he sent through the telepathic connection.

There was genuine worry for Yaden in his thoughts, a deeply felt love and affection. There was concentration, and responsibility, and melancholia that made no sense at all to Sam. Most unexpected, there was a gentle, welcoming emotion towards Sam, as if Sir Colin thought Sam was an old friend he was meeting for the first time today.

Telepathic communication had many advantages, but sometimes, it just made things more complicated, Sam realized silently.

“Darling, is everything all right?” Yaden asked from across the kitchen, setting down his cleaver, a concerned look on his face.

Another advantage of telepathic connections was that they only needed a negligible fraction of the time they would have needed if spoken out physically. From Yaden's point of view, Sam's eyes had glassed over for a second, his face twitching as if thinking in deep concentration and not paying attention to the world outside. No more than a few seconds could have passed outside of Sam's head since P2 Prime had contacted him.

“It's okay, don't worry,” Sam said without even thinking. There really was no point in upsetting his lover any more. “It's my office, they'll have some kind of emergency and I'll have to join the briefing.”

Gently tapping his temple, Sam gestured that he was in a telepathic connection.

“I'll be upstairs until they let me go, yes?” Sam said softly, already turning towards the stairs. “Call me if that crazy noble shows up again.”

“Sure thing...”

Yaden's reply didn't sound sure at all, but then again, Sam had other things to worry about right now. Like, that annoyingly well connected noble right inside his head.

\--What do you want of him?-- Sam asked, trying to convey his care and worry and willingness to fight for Yaden along with his question.

\--The same as you. I want him to be happy. --

This time, Sir Colin's reply was accompanied by images of Yaden smiling across a table, of Yaden sleepily blinking out of a hammock, of him laughing with a small, fox-eared child in his arms. Images of Yaden so blissfully happy that it clenched Sam's heart joy and sadness at the same time.

Sitting down on their bed, Sam wondered how these images would fit with those he had in his mind of a happy, naughty, barefooted fast-food-restaurant owner. But it definitely was Yaden the noble was thinking of, no mistaking there.

When Sir Colin continued, he didn't use words to talk to Sam. Instead, he just sent a deeply felt agreement. He loved Yaden just as Sam loved him, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to see him happy and protected. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam remembered that the most skilled telepaths were also empaths, able to convey emotions and feelings to those they were connecting to. And right now, Sir Colin was using the empathic connection P2 Prime offered them to show Sam all the love that he felt for Yaden, all the unconditional and unwordable feelings that usually could never be shown.  
And without thinking, Sam answered in like, allowing the noble to see all his love, all his worry, and all the joy that he connected with Yaden. It all just burst out of him, a torrent so intense that Sam could hardly believe that it was really boring old him holding all these emotions.

Somewhere in the physical world, Sam could hear himself gasp softly with the pure intensity of feelings that rushed through him in the split second the whole exchange needed.

After what felt like less than a heartbeat and yet more than an hour, Sam's and Colin's emotions finally untangled again, leaving them both smiling, exhausted, and oddly familiar with each other.

\--Yes, he does that to people.-- Colin said finally, his words still fraught with emotion, but much calmer now. --I wasn't too sure how hard you had fallen for him, until now.--

Sam could only agree. He had fallen hard, and didn't regret a single second of it. Burning to finally learn how all this fit together, he sent Colin the mental image of a question mark and a gentle nudge.

Colin smiled at the way the question was presented, and seemed to brace himself for his answer.

\--Maybe I should start with properly introducing myself. I am Sir Colin of House Dracon, but you probably know me better as Colin, the ‘Demon Baker of Leichnam’, and husband of Sir Yaden.--

Even worse than the words was the mental image that accompanied Colin's claim. It was an image of Sir Yaden, the Phoenix Knight. Of the real man, not of the actor that portrayed him in the movies.

And if you looked past his iconographic outfit, the green woolen vest and the bracers, then he looked just like the man standing downstairs in the kitchen, chopping some meat.

Sam felt as if he should faint on the spot. How in all the empire could he have not noticed? How could he have been that blind?

Sir Yaden was one of the best known citizens of the empire. Right after the Emperor, there was probably no other human who's images had been printed more often. There were Sir Yaden t-shirts, Sir Yaden posters, Sir Yaden pens. With slightly amused dread, Sam realized that somewhere in his old flat, he even had a Sir Yaden mug.  
He had bought the mug after he had seen 'Sir Yaden and The Demon Witches of Leichnam' in cinema for the fourth time. Each time, he had almost started crying when Sir Yaden finally proposed to his one true love, to the man he had saved from the pyre the villagers were trying to burn him on for helping the witches. Each time, he had hoped that one day, he would be lucky enough to find a love like those two. Like Sir Yaden and Colin, the Demon Baker of Leichnam.

And suddenly, right those people had fallen from the silver screen right into his life, and it was so very much not what he had hoped for. It was a mess, an ugly, painful mess. And the real Yaden didn't even remotely look like the actor who portrayed him in the movies. Hell, the real Yaden was at least two heads shorter than the actor. And... cute!

\--Undercover missions,-- Colin thought, politely trying to bring the still open connection back to Sam's attention. --Those actors are picked very carefully.--

\--But I've got his real face on a mug, for god's sake! I should have seen it!--

\--Even if you had noticed the similarities, you'd probably just have laughed at it and told everyone your boyfriend was looking like a Phoenix Knight. It's just nothing normal people like us would ever come to think of.--

Normal people like us, Sam scoffed inwardly, yeah, sure. But then, more ingrained than any actual fact could have been, the images from the movie resurfaced in Sam's mind, reminding him that in the end, he and Colin had a lot in common after all.

Before he had met Sir Yaden, Colin had been a commoner, a baker in some remote village on Leichnam. They had met during Yaden's first mission, an undercover mission. And they had fallen in love despite everything, and they had married and lived happily ever after. Sam even remembered having had a day off as most guard duties in town had been taken over by the Emperor's Ruby Guards when the two had married a few years ago.

The whole thing felt so very unreal.

\--But it is real.-- Colin's voice, calm and reasonable now. --That man in the kitchen downstairs is one of the most powerful psychics of humanity, and he has no idea of his power nor any control over it at all.--

Slowly, as if his mind needed the time to step back sufficiently to see the bigger picture, Sam realized why Colin had been so concerned. And in what a mortal danger they had all been.

\--His powers over air and earth are unmatched, and I am not sure even the Gods know what he'll do should he feel truly threatened. Or if one of his loved ones were...--

\--What can I do?--

\--I have no idea.-- Colin sounded sincere but far from desperate. Actually, he sounded as if looking forward to the challenge. --But we're going to figure it out, you and me. I have faith in you.--


	8. Chapter 8

Sam had talked to Colin for quite a while before they ended the connection. No more than maybe five minutes had passed, but in terms of telepathic transfer rates, that was a small eternity.

It had taken Sam much, much longer than that to at least halfway come to terms with what he had learned.

His lover was not a mere noble; he was a Phoenix Knight, a direct representative of the Emperor, able to pass justice in the Emperor’s name. As long as he was travelling on behalf of the Emperor, he was speaking with the Emperor’s voice, his commands carrying the same authority as if having come from the Emperor himself.  
That he was also one of the younger sons of the Duchess of Pandora paled to insignificance in comparison.

Also, Yaden was married. And in perfect keeping with Dracon traditions, he wasn't only married to Colin. No, he was also married to a lovely woman and two other men, and they had over half a dozen children among them.

Probably most confusing at all, Colin didn't seem to mind Yaden's relationship with Sam at all. In contrary, he seemed to look forward to meeting Sam in person and welcoming him into the family.

But all those mind-boggling and in Sam's eyes plain scary facts had to wait.

Because on top of all that, Yaden was one of humanity's most powerful psychics. Even as a child, he already had been powerful enough to calm the volcanoes of his home planet, and he had grown stronger ever since. He might have forgotten that he possessed the ability to split mountains like others split firewood. But it was all still within him, and if he truly felt threatened, he might accidentally rip off a part of the planet's crust or dent the moon's orbit or something similarly disproportionate. Until he got his memories back, Yaden had to be treated like the ticking time bomb he was.

So Sam just sat on the rim of their bed and waited until his hands had stopped shaking. Then he waited a little longer until he felt strong enough to plaster a sufficiently credible smile onto his face. Finally, he took a deep breath, and walked downstairs, back into the kitchen, where Yaden was still busy cutting up the last pieces of meat.

Sam had been gone no longer than ten minutes, maybe, even though if it felt like a little lifetime to him.

“Hey love,” he said, appalled at the exhaustion he could hear in his own voice. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Good Lord,” Yaden exclaimed, putting down his cleaver and starting to wipe his bloody hands clean. “You look horrible. Are you all right?”

Sam chuckled despite himself.

“This telepathy crap is just... Let's say I'm not used to it, and it was a lot of information.” Rubbing his hair, Sam was happy that he didn't have to lie about this part of the story, at least. His head was swimming with thoughts and memories not his own, but surely nothing that had to do with his job, either. “But I have good news, believe it or not.”

Yaden looked up with anticipation. Silently, he walked over to the freezer in the corner, pulled out a bottle of ice-cold spiced schnaps and poured Sam a generous glass.

“Here,” he said, handing the glass over to Sam. “You look like you need it.”

“Thank you.”

Sam downed the glass at once and waited until he felt the familiar shudder go through him. He really wasn't used to drinking alcohol on a regular basis, but looking at the recent events in his live, it might just become a new habit.

Yaden walked back to his meat, closing the kitchen back door on his way that he seemed to have left ajar before. Calmly, he continued cleaning up, waiting for Sam to be collected enough to tell him what news he had.

“I managed to talk to my commissioner, and it seems that this 'Sir Colin' is a known problem.”

“No kidding?”

“Apparently, he's one of these bored nobles just running around telling shit to commoners.” Deep inside, it hurt Sam to talk this way of Colin, but at the same time he knew that it was the only way Yaden could feel safe for the time being. “He must have read something in the papers about your memory loss, and apparently decided that it would be fun to see how long he could keep his little game up.”

Yaden shot him a sinister look, shaking his head. His opinion about nobles hadn't been very high to start with, and now was sinking even lower. Sam wondered how that might change once Yaden had his memories back.

“But the commissioner said that there have been sufficient complaints by now that he'll bring the matter to the Duke right this afternoon. They'll make sure he won't bother us again.”

Yaden still frowned but seemed to be buying Sam's story, gathering up the remaining bones and carrying them to the bin in the corner. “Permanently sure, like in, terminally?”

“Only if he resists, or manages to royally piss off the duke. Which admittedly shouldn't be too hard for him, considering his charming personality.”

“I so hope he resists.”

Yaden discarded the bones and then stared at the back door, frowning again.

“We really have to have a look at the lock,” Yaden said slightly annoyed. Closing and this time locking the door, he added: “Damn thing always opens if it's not properly locked, and even then it doesn't always stay shut.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Right now, there were really more important things to consider. “Also, I managed to get my commissioner to talk to the head of the Aroona here in town.”

This time, Yaden's frown turned into a slightly surprised expression. As accessible the local Aroona priests might be, as hard-to-find were their superiors.

“He managed to explain him the urgency of your situation and your run-ins with the guild and a noble, and the Temple agreed to an appointment tomorrow noon.”

“Really. That's... soon.”

“You don't sound too happy.”

“I... I don't know.” Setting down a bowl of sliced tomatoes, Yaden sighed softly and looked at Sam. “Does it make sense that I am afraid? Afraid to learn what I have forgotten?”

“Absolutely. But if you're afraid, what am I to say? Maybe, tomorrow evening I find myself without a boyfriend.”

Yaden opened his mouth to argue, but then just shook his head. “But if we both don't want my memories back – why even bother? We could just leave things the way they are.” Smiling, he added: “Live happily ever after, marry, maybe adopt a few kids... You know, get old together.”

Sitting down on the lowest steps leading to the bedroom, Sam felt his throat constrict with upcoming tears.  
He already knew he would lose Yaden. And as much as he wanted to keep things just the way they were, there were too many others who needed Yaden. Who needed the Phoenix Knight, at the height of his abilities. It hurt inside like nothing ever before, but nobody really needed another kebab-shack owner. Nobody but him.

“You can't do that, Yaden. You can't keep that hole in your life forever.”

“Why not?!”

“Maybe there are others who need you. Maybe you do have a family somewhere. And you can't decide that you don't want something you don't know.”

This was an argument Yaden couldn't instantly deflate, and for a moment, he just stood at his kitchen counter, his mouth working as if rehearsing the proper retort. In the tense silence of their paused argument, the soft click of the back door opening again sounded like a taunt.

“I don't fucking believe it!” Yaden hissed at the door, slowly swinging open again. “This fucking piece of crap!”

He walked over to slam it shut once and for all, seeming almost relieved to have found a way to vent all his frustrated emotion on.

But suddenly, Sam caught a motion behind the door that instantly set him at high alert. It was just a subtle movement in the air, like ripples over a hot tin roof in summer. But to anyone who had ever seen a military-grade cloaking shield, it was the tell-tale signal that the enemy was way too close. Those cloaking shields were highly restricted technology and all but impossible to come by, but there was always at least one exception to any rule.

“Yaden!” Sam yelled sharply, “DOWN!”

Much his surprise, Yaden actually dropped like a stone, falling behind a counter that offered him some decent cover. Relieved that his love was out of the line-of-fire for now at least, Sam jumped to his feet, already reaching for the emergency shield at his wrist. But the small device was still lying upstairs on the night-stand, recharging after the incident at the gallery last night.

With helpless dread, Sam watched the back door being pushed open as if in slow-motion, and a narrow object appeared in the air, too extended to be still covered by the cloaking shield, pointing right at Sam's face. A blowpipe, the weapon all the other dead snack-shop workers had been killed with. The one the Kebab Killer had attacked Yaden with.

Sending a wordless prayer to whatever deity might be listening, Sam dropped to the side, hoping that he would be fast enough to evade the first shot. But he knew that his chances were below slim. On this short a distance, even an untrained attacker could hardly miss. And the Kebab Killer was hardly untrained, given his track record.

As soon as he hit the ground, Sam crouched close to the nearest counter, wondering if maybe the poison the killer used was numbing the pain, for he didn't feel the sting of a blow dart anywhere. Cautiously, he looked around to face the door, and found a tiny, green-feathered blow dart hovering mere inched away from his thigh. Just hovering, not moving in any direction, just spinning lazily around itself.

“No!” Yaden's exclamation was less a word but a low, threatening growl, but the meaning couldn't have been any clearer.

Already dreading what he was about to see, Sam turned his head the other way, and found Yaden standing next to the counter he had been hiding behind. His bare feet planted wide apart, he obviously was in some kind of a combat stance, his hands raised once again. There was almost a palpable hum of concentrated anger and power emanating from Yaden, as if the whole house was suddenly breathing in unison with him.

Yaden lightly opened his right hand, and the blow dart next to Sam dropped to the ground with a silvery tinkle.

From the door came a muffled, struggling sound. Yaden pulled his outstretched left hand closer to his body, and the sound of struggled breathing and helplessly working feet on the ground grew louder. This close, Sam could make out the shape of a man inside the cloaking shield, arms awkwardly pressed to his sides, trying to break free.

Slowly, Yaden closed his left hand, and even through the agonized scream of the hardly visible man, the crunch and snap of breaking bones was still audible.

“Never again...” Yaden said, grimly, and brought his hands together with a resounding clap.

Instantly, the kebab killer exploded.

From one blink to another, the invisible man turned into a crimson cloud of tiny, meaty bits, covering every surface in the small kitchen with such force that Sam felt the impact of each drop through his clothes. Where there had been a man standing only a heartbeat before, just a bunch of shredded clothes and a single, mangled shoe were sacking together in a wet, gory heap.

Every nearby surface was splattered crimson, with bits and pieces of skin and meat and bones slowly sliding down the walls or dropping off the ceiling with a sickening, wet sound. It was incredible how much gore a single body could produce.

“Sam? Sam, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Yaden's worried question only reached Sam as if through a wall of water. Utterly disgusted but unable to look away, Sam watched as a long strip of something very organic peeled itself off the blood-covered back door, the sucking sound resounding in his adrenalin-sharpened mind.

And then, all of a sudden, the revolting smell hit Sam, overwhelming what little control he had left in an instant. Before he could even think about throwing up, he found himself puking his guts right on the kitchen floor next to him, half-digested blob-on-a-stick hardly worsening the overall mess.

While he was still retching, Yaden was suddenly kneeling at his side, offering him surprisingly clean paper towel and calmly supporting him.

“Shh,” he said gently. “As long as you can still puke like this, you're not poisoned. It'll be all right, love. Just take your time.”

Groaning softly, Sam let his head drop against his lover's shoulder. A long moment passed until he felt composed enough to talk again.

“Couldn't you just have arrested him?”

“What for?” Yaden asked coolly, finally showing that he was a noble, after all. “He got what he deserved. Bastard.”

“I mean, couldn't you just have snapped his neck?” Sitting up again, Sam gestured around the blood-covered room. Now that all the adrenalin was finally receeding, he felt nothing but exhaustion. “Was this mess really necessary?”

Non-chalantly, Yaden just shrugged. “It's not as if I had a plan. Just wanted to kill him. But you're right, I do have to work on a less messy way of killing people.”

Adding another shrug and a lopsided smile that looked rather worrisome among all the blood, Yaden added cheerfully: “What a luck I've brought the meat and the bread to the front room already.”

“Gods, you're impossible.” Looking around the kitchen, Sam tried to get his mind out of its shocked state and back to working properly. “We should call the precinct, I think. They will need our statements and probably will want to take some evidence.

“Well, there's evidence enough around here,” Yaden said, picking a piece of bone from Sam's shoulder and flung it into a corner. “But you're right, of course. After all, they'll be happy to learn we caught the bastard before he could do any more harm.”

The Ducal Crescents would have been happier if there had been a suspect to arrest, or at least a body to show to the press. A bucket full of gore just wasn't that convincing for the general public.

On the other hand, maybe calling the DCs wasn't such a good idea, after all, Sam realized with a cold wave of fear. His colleagues sure would ask questions about Yaden's abilities, and it wouldn't take them long to figure out that something was seriously fishy. And then Yaden would feel threatened and do unimaginable things just to keep the two of them safe. Heavens, maybe one of them would even recognize Yaden as the Phoenix Knight he was.  
On the other hand, his colleagues had been eating Yaden's kebabs for several weeks now with absolutely no-one even getting suspicious. So why should they now?

Because there is the most wanted serial killer in recent history of the capital splattered all across the kitchen, Sam answered his own question silently.

With a soft groan, he sat up straighter and reached for the cell-phone in his chest pocket. With shaking hands, Sam tried to type in the number, but gave up after a few attempts. He was only covering the phone in the same, sticky gore that was clinging to his hands, and he was just too exhausted to clean himself up first. So he closed his eyes and concentrated.

\--Psions' Guild?--

\--Hello Sam. How can I help?-- Cool and crisp, the voice of P2 Prime was like a breeze of fresh air in Sam's mind. Though the fact that it was P2 Prime instead of some ordinary operator made Sam frown again.

\--Have you been listening the whole time?-- he asked rather brusquely.

\--No.-- The reply came with a soft mental smile and a gentle apology for being attentive to those people he cared for. --Do you want me to put you through to your boss?--

\--Yes please... And sorry for being so paranoid.--

Again, P2 Prime didn't answer with words, just with the feeling of understanding and deep familiarity with the problem. He really didn't mind. Then there was the subtle shift of another mind being connected to Sam's, and a firm, assertive mental voice with surprising volume appeared in his mind.

\--Yes? Hello? Is anyone there?--

The mental voice was unfamiliar to Sam, and didn't seem to belong to anyone he knew.

\--Commissioner Myers?--

\--No.-- A clear mental image of a snarky chuckle followed. --This is Duke Veruda.--

If Sam hadn't already been completely emotionally exhausted, he would have fainted with mortification on the spot. The Duke of P2, of all people, the highest-ranking noble on the planet next to the Emperor. And he had requested a direct telepathic communication with him!

But thing being as they were, Sam merely came to the conclusion that maybe, things concerning Phoenix Knights working undercover and turning into potential time-bombs were actually best sorted out with the highest governing local noble, who also happened to be Sam's commander-in-chief, after all. He wasn’t called a Ducal Crescent for nothing. Maybe it was even better not to have poor Commissioner Myers know too many things.

\--My Lord, I have a situation here involving a Phoenix Knight, a severe memory loss and a minced Kebab Killer. You will need to set up some kind of policy for the DC on how to proceed, and I am at a total loss who is responsible for such a thing or who is allowed to know what. Shall I give you what little detail I have?--

If Duke Veruda was surprised, there was no trace of it in his mental voice. --Not necessary, I'll check directly with Commander Li-Ma. Who's the Phoenix Knight in question?--

\--Sir Yaden, Sir.--

\--That explains a lot. Please hang on, I'll be right back.--

Sam sent his wordless agreement, but the Duke was already gone. Having nothing to do while waiting for him to have gathered all the necessary information, Sam looked around, searching for Yaden.

Apparently, the under-cover Phoenix Knight was rummaging around in the small room under the stairs, judging by the noises. A moment later, Yaden returned, his face and arms already mostly clean again, carrying a large glass of cold mineral water and a big squeegee.

“Here, love,” he said, putting the cold beverage into Sam's hand. “I think that's better for you than alcohol now.”

With a slight frown, Yaden eyed the slowly drying mess on the ceiling and the walls, and the then squeegee in his hands.

“Do you think your colleagues would mind if I already started 'gathering the evidence'? I mean, if I start now, I could have the kitchen at least hosed down before business really starts tonight.”

Despite everything, Sam had to laugh out loud. Maybe Yaden had just killed a man in the goriest fashion imaginable, but his only worry was getting the work done so his customers would have at least some kind of emergency menu tonight. In a way, it was obvious who of them was the more experienced crime fighter.

“Yes, I think they would mind.”

“But why? I mean, it's not as if they'd question what we tell them, or that there is anything left of the killer that could tell them anything.”

“Just don't. Please.” Sighing, he could already guess what his colleagues would to if they heard that Yaden had slain the Kebab Killer. And it sure as hell wouldn't contain anything that's written in the DC handbook. But they should at least try to make it look like due process. “Just wait until they were here and made a few pictures. They'll hurry up and then help you cleaning.”

Yaden looked calculating for a moment, then shrugged with a tiny smile and put the squeegee into a corner.

“A few helping hands sure won't hurt.” Looking down on Sam who was still sitting on the ground, covered in splatters of blood and other, less savoury substances, he asked: “You sure you are fine?”

“I will be in a minute.” Braving a smile for Yaden, Sam added affectionately: “I'm just not so used to all the gore, and still a little shaky.”

“Maybe then you shouldn't be sitting in the middle of it?”

“You've got a point there.”

Grimacing with disgust, Sam rose from the ground, cautious not to make more of a mess than there already was. Carefully, he walked over the slippery tiles and out the back door, almost managing to ignore the crunching bits under his feet and the bone shrapnel that was still buried in the soft wood of the door.

The 'backyard' was no more than a patch of mossy rocks and weedy grass, a few meters wide with walls on all sides. It was raining lightly, but the air outside was fresh and Sam could faintly hear the waves breaking in the bay below. From a drainpipe, a small rivulet of water was running off a moss-covered neighbouring roof, and Sam started washing the worst of the gore from his hands and face, the rain a pleasant help.

\--Officer Balmoral?-- the Duke's voice suddenly returned back into Sam's head with its well-known but still startling volume. --I think I have established the necessary orders, my Crescents will be at your position any minute now.--

\--Oh good,-- Sam replied, only belatedly remembering that the man he was talking to was his god-damn duke. --So they will treat Yaden carefully enough, my Lord?--

\--Don't worry. I told them you two did a great job and all they still had to do was taking pictures.-- With a mental smile, Duke Veruda added: --And shaking hands, of course. Good job, Officer.--

\--Thank you, my Lord, but it was mostly Yaden who... --

\--I wasn't talking about the Kebab Killer.--

\--Oh.--

\--You're the first guy who actually thought that out aloud,-- the Duke said with the waning concentration of a man whose attention was direly needed elsewhere. --Will I see you at the ball next month?--

\--Of course, my Lord.--

\--Looking forward to shaking your hand, Officer. Until then.--

\--Yes, my Lord.--

And as abruptly as it had appeared, the Duke's mental presence vanished from Sam's mind.

Silently, Sam continued washing the worst bits off himself. Even though the smell would probably stick with him for the rest of his life, in his mind at least, it felt intensely relieving to see the red water run away between the rocks of the backyard and disappear through their little drain in the corner.

Behind him, in the kitchen, he could hear Yaden talk to some utterly disbelieving DC officer in measured, friendly tones. Yaden sounded rather like a man recounting how he had accidentally found a long-lost cat, not like someone explaining how he turned psychic woodchipper on a serial killer. But still, it was good to hear Yaden finally talk without stress in his voice, as if suddenly a lot of tension had fallen off him.

“Hey love.” Yaden walked out into the yard, not caring about the gentle rain either. “Your colleagues are here now, and they're almost not miffed that it wasn't one of them who got the bastard. But apart from that, they're really nice, just taking some pictures and then they'll help me hose down the place.”

There was something in Yaden's look, a certain happiness, some kind of relief mixed with pride and joy, that took Sam a little moment to make sense of.  
But then, he realized that all the time, Yaden hadn't been worried about himself, or the things he might have done in his past. He had worried about what all that might do to their relationship, and to Sam consequentially. He had been so stressed because he hadn't had a proper idea on how to protect him. But now, with both Crazy Sir Colin and the Kebab Killer out of the picture, there was nothing Yaden saw as a threat to Sam's happiness.

The joy Sam could see in his lover's eyes was the joy that Sam was safe now. He was a Phoenix Knight, after all. Even if he was currently pretending to run a kebab shack in Downtown.

“Are you really sure you want to open tonight after all that has happened?”

“Like hell!” Smirking, Yaden added: “Last thing I want to do is allow that bastard the power to see my shop closed again even for a single night. Though it's only going to be dry kebab rolls and soda, tonight. I'm not squeamish, but even I wouldn't want to eat anything out of that kitchen.”

Laughing, Sam hugged Yaden, both seeping wet by now from the rain.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Sure I do.” Calmly leaning his head against Sam's chest, they stood in the rain, together, for a long moment. Then, after a deep, relaxed breath, Yaden remarked: “You still got bone chips in your hair. What about we tell your colleagues how they have to clean my kitchen and then we two go and have a long, hot shower?”

“Just a shower?”

“Just a shower.”

“That sounds like a tremendously great idea.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Hi Sam. Would you – would it be okay if I waited here as well?”

Colin's voice sounded so cautiously friendly that Sam didn't have the heart to send him away. And after all, it might actually be nice not to have to wait all on his own while he lost the love of his life.

“Sure, come in. I could use some company.”

Quietly, Colin entered the waiting room at the main Aroona temple of Imperial City, closing the door behind him. Situated on one of the higher floors, the room overlooked the square in front of the temple, and was as welcoming and bright as the weather of Imperial City allowed. Wooden furniture and light, natural fabrics together with as many potted plants as the room could possible hold clearly left no doubt that this was an Aroona-run temple.

“They called me,” Colin started to explain. “The ritual worked as well as one could hope for, and he ought to wake up any time now.”

“Some priest told me, too, yes.” Sam replied, nervously fingering the belt of his uniform. Only then his remembered that he was talking to a Dracon Noble, after all, and he added a sketched bow. “Sir.”

Colin gave him a quizzical look, and apparently decided not to comment.

“Was Yaden very hard to convince to come here?” Colin asked instead. “He can be kind of... rock-headed, once he makes up his mind.”

“Don't remind me,” Sam all but winced.

It had been another long, painful discussion this morning until Yaden had finally, grudgingly accepted to come to the temple. Not because he thought it would do him any good, but because he seen that Sam wouldn't let it be. Basically, Yaden had come to the temple because Sam had asked him to.

Thankfully, the Aroona hadn't left them much time for tearful last goodbyes. Sam and Yaden had barely arrived this morning when a priest had taken Yaden away into the depths of the temple, and another one had led Sam here into this waiting-room.

At least, they had brought Sam some bits to eat while he waited. He had also tried to catch a moment of sleep on the couch in the room, but that had proven pretty much impossible. Sam's thoughts just didn't stop revolving around the horrible feeling of returning back home to his own flat, empty and all on his own again. Or passing the Kebab Shack on the Crooked Steps, once again without owner.

So he had stayed here, and waited until Colin had knocked on the door in the late afternoon.

Several times, he had wondered if it might have been better and less painful if he just left. After all, Yaden was Colin's husband, not Sam’s. And it should be Colin greeting him, and taking care of him. Not some leftover part of Yaden’s latest cover who was still emotionally attached to him to a ridiculously inappropriate degree.

But Sam at least wanted to talk to the ‘real’ Yaden. To see how he dealt with their shared history. And to hear it from himself that it was over. At least, that would put an end to Sam wondering forever what if.

So yes, having Colin around was a good thing. The noble distracted him from his miserable thoughts, and forced Sam to act like a proper grown up.

Right now, Colin was serving himself with some kind of lemonade the Aroona had kindly provided, looking around the room as if wondering if having seen similar places much too often for his liking already. Much like Sam, he looked tired, but relieved it was finally over.  
They had a lot in common, after all. The love of their lifes, among other things.

Calmly, Colin walked over to the couch and settled down, smiling at Sam as he noticed the other man staring at him.

“I – I am sorry, Sir,” Sam apologized in reflex, but at the same time knew that Colin wouldn't mind. During the brief time they had shared their emotions, Sam had learned a lot about Colin. And probably, Colin about him as well.

“It's okay.” Colin took a sip of his lemonade and smirked. “You know, when there's movies about your life, and books and plays and collectible mugs, you get used to being stared at. It doesn’t bother me any longer. And to make things worse, the guy playing me in the movies actually looks a little like me.”

Colin was right; the actor playing him in 'The Demon Witches of Leichnam' looked a lot like him. Colin was maybe even a little on the prettier side of his actor, a little taller than Yaden, with artfully tousled brown hair and intense brown eyes. Then again, the unrelieved black Colin was wearing, the inviolable dress-code of House Dracon, complete with the dragon crest above his heart, was instantly reducing this impression to 'rather handsome'.

And even if Colin had started out as a simple baker in a literally god-forsaken hamlet on Leichnam, Sam knew he was no mere mortal any more. Even if only half the rumours concerning him were true, he had become a powerful Youh’Kai shaman during the years since he met his husband.  
Now that Sam had a moment to look at Colin properly, he could spot the tiny details that supported those rumours. Most obvious was the black leather bracelet, sporting the mandibles of some giant insect. But also the way Colin’s simple leather jacket wasn’t sewn but sported seams of finely braided leather and several mismatched, bone-white buttons. Nothing out of the ordinary, each one of them. But taking into account that the Youh’Kai loved turning vanquished foes into talismans of exactly that kind, it was quite possible that Colin wasn’t a simple baker any longer. Even though he tried hard not to show it.

Sam felt insignificant compared to Colin, and plain. Thinking of Yaden’s other spouses almost made Sam wince. How could he ever even compare to them? They were celebrities, famous and powerful and everything Sam was not.

Sam was no stunning beauty like the red-haired Sir Kendrik, who was Ambassador of his native, foreign human Empire when he was not clinging to Sir Yaden’s arm or gracing magazine covers.  
Neither was he a ferocious warrior like Lord Teagan, a demon who had lost his heart to Yaden and gained a soul in return. Nor was he as brilliant as Lady Jennifer, a princess from Earth, who was a renowned scientist and mother of Yaden’s children.

He was nothing like them.

He was just some boy from downtown Imperial City.

What a silly notion to entertain even a faint hope that things might work out between them.  
Right then, the door opened, and Yaden entered the room.

Now wearing his iconographic outfit, he was instantly recognizable as the Phoenix Knight he was. The changes were so superficial and yet the difference so profound that it stunned any words out of Sam.

Colin, who had settled on reading some food magazine on his couch, seemed utterly unfazed. He merely stood up, smiling.

“Hey love,” Colin said, smiling. “Good to have you back.”

“Oh my god, Colin,” Yaden replied under his breath, crossing the room in a few, long strides and bearhugging his husband. “I am so sorry, love, so sorry. Are you alright?”

It was beyond Sam why Yaden would worry about Colin’s health, but then again, it wasn’t exactly anything he was supposed to know. Standing right next to the two of them, Sam almost felt like intruding on some very private moment.

“I’m alright,” Colin replied softly, nudging Yaden’s face with the tip of his nose. “And before you have to ask, no, I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Oh. Good.” Yaden seemed genuinely relieved. “Are the kids alright?”

“They have missed you, as usual.” Colin smiled and separated gently from his husband. “They were a little worried, but convinced you’d sort this one out as well. As usual.”

Holding Yaden at arm’s length, Colin shook his head in mock exasperation.

“How do you always manage to end up like this?”

Instead of a reply, Yaden just shrugged with a minute, guilty smile. Apparently, this was a discussion the two of them had on a regular basis.

With a tiny gesture, Colin motioned over to Sam who was still standing silently in his corner of the room. Yaden followed the gesture and smiled widely.

“Sam!” he exclaimed, leaving Colin standing where he was and walking over to the DC officer. “You are here!”

Still too stunned at Yaden’s suddenly obvious knighthood, Sam was utterly unable to manage a single coherent thought. So the first thing he managed to do was a deep bow as it befitted a direct representative of the Emperor.

“My Lord,” Sam said, keeping his head down and the eyes to the ground.

Yaden stopped dead in his tracks, his insecurity and worry almost palpable to all but Sam.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” he asked, gently laying his hand on Sam’s arm. “It’s me, Yaden. I… I have changed, right, but it’s still me.”

Unsure of what to make of Yaden’s remark, Sam remained standing as he was, eyes cast down. He had never expected this moment to be easy, but he really had not expected Yaden to be so… indecisive.

“Sam, please. At least look at me.”

Obediently, Sam looked up, meeting Yaden’s eyes. Much to his own surprise, he saw genuine worry there, and a Phoenix Knight who looked terrifyingly similar to the man he had planned to marry.

“Sir.” Still not sure of what to make of this, Sam tried a smile that came out more sad than anything else. “I just wanted to be here when you woke up. To say hello one last time before we say farewell.”

“But…” Yaden seemed genuinely troubled. “Won’t you at least give us a chance?”

“Beg your pardon?” Sam really was not sure if he had heard that last sentence right.

“I mean, I know I am not the man you fell in love with,” Yaden explained cautiously. “But even though I have not been exactly honest with you, I never lied about the important things.” With a shy smile, he added: “I love you.”

“But…” Sam started; his mind a riot of reasons why they could never possibly be happy together. “I am just some Downtown cop, how can you say you love me?!”

Casting a glance over Yaden’s shoulder, Sam tried to get some help from Colin, but the other noble apparently had decided that this was absolutely not his business. Instead, Colin was sitting on the couch again, very intently reading his magazine.

“How can anyone not love you?” Yaden asked, so genuinely not understanding that it only added to Sam’s abundant confusion. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Me? I am nobody. I am neither pretty nor brave nor brilliant nor anything that those people around you are. I am scared when I deal with psychics or aliens and when there’s a noble I try to get to the other side of the street. I’ve never been off-planet or anywhere that’s of any importance and – “

Gently, Yaden put a finger on Sam’s lips, stopping his barrage of perceived reasons at least for a moment.

“Shh. Yes, you are all that. And still, I love you. And I would really, really try and see if there is a chance we two can work things out. I want you in my life, Sam. But the real question is – do you still want me?”

“Huh?” Sam’s mind, that had been so full of words just a few heartbeats ago, suddenly was as silent as the beach at night. Was this really happening? Was Yaden seriously suggesting they tried to keep their relationship alive despite everything? “I… I don’t think it can work.”

“Oh.”

Yaden’s face slowly slipped into a heart-broken expression until Sam realized how his last words must have sounded for the Phoenix Knight.

“No, that’s not what I meant! I mean, I can’t see this working out, but yes, I would like to try.” Smiling at the smile that instantly lit up Yaden’s face, Sam added: “Very much so.”

Instead of a reply, Yaden only hugged Sam tightly, snuggling his face against the other man’s chest as he had done all the time in the last weeks. And despite himself, Sam found himself relieved and giddy with joy. Maybe Yaden was a Phoenix Knight, but his was still short enough that Sam could easily rest his chin on the top of Yaden’s head when they embraced.

“Finally.” Colin’s voice interrupted their sweet moment. “Now that we have sorted this out, what about we go home, have dinner and see the rest of the family?”

“Dinner sounds lovely,” Yaden stated with emphasis, but without leaving Sam’s embrace. Looking up to Sam, he added with sparkling eyes: “You will love the kids.”

“I… Would it be all right if I came along, Colin?”

Colin smiled and nodded as if that had been his plan all along.

“Of course. I’d be happy to have you around, and it’s a perfect opportunity to meet the kids and your other spouses.”

“Yaden’s spouses, you mean?”

Colin merely cast him one of his trademark quizzical looks, smirking.

“Yeah. Right.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Sam?” Yaden called from the kitchen downstairs. “Can I have your Yaden mug?”

Smiling, Sam put down the folding table he had just carried out onto the small balcony of his house.

“Sure, love. Everything you want!”

They were at Sam’s house in Downtown, a tiny thing in the last row of houses. Right behind, the steep outer fortifications of the Imperial Palace were rising into the night. The house was only a few meters wide, really no more than a staircase with a roof. But it was enough for a small kitchen and bathroom on the lower floor, and a bedroom on top. But most importantly, it had a balcony with the best view of Imperial City.

And tonight, the city seemed to have put on its finest attire, it seemed.

It was the night of the annual police ball, and Sam and Yaden had just returned home after having danced until the band packed up. Usually, it would have been too cool already for a last drink outside, but apparently, Yaden had nudged the weather just a little bit. There were some distinct advantages of being together with a psion who could influence the weather any way he wanted.

So instead of the usual drizzle, the night air was clear and still comfortably warm. From his balcony, Sam could see all across the bay and even the cupolas of the Old Opera were clearly visible in the distance, stars sparkling both above and as their reflections in the calm water of the bay. Even despite the hour, hundreds of small gliders and hoverbikes flitted through the night like so many well-organized fireflies. If Sam looked right up, he could clearly make out the scintillating spot of Tiara, the space-station in stationary orbit above the palace.

Still humming one of the songs they had danced to tonight, Sam set up the small chairs next to the table, smiling at the sounds of Yaden rummaging in the kitchen below.  
Much to his surprise, their relationship had worked out surprisingly well. It turned out that the ‘real’ Yaden wasn’t too different from the charming kebab shack owner Sam had fallen in love with, less than two months ago. Sure, Yaden was a powerful psion and a Phoenix Knight and married to a whole bunch of people – but those things were somehow less troublesome than Sam had feared initially. Yaden was still the kind, honest and slightly naughty person that he had been while working under-cover in the Kebab Shack on the Crooked Steps, trying to lure the Kebab Killer into a fatal misstep.

So they had continued dating over the last weeks, and things had turned out so well that Sam repeatedly had to pinch himself. Only very few things had changed in their between them, actually. For one, Yaden did no longer run the Kebab Shack – now that the Kebab Killer was gone, there was no reason for him to continue keeping up his cover. And somehow, there had been no shortage of applicants for the job now that the place was famous.

But they hadn’t moved into Sam’s house either. Most evenings, Sam went ‘home’ to Yaden’s place, a small island a little off the coast of P2’s only equatorial continent, where the weather was much friendlier than in the capital.  
They only used Sam’s house for nights when they wanted to stay in Imperial City, as it was the case tonight. For despite everything, Yaden had agreed to join Sam at the police ball as his plus-one. And what a wonderful evening it had been.

Walking the red carpet with a Phoenix Knight at his arm had been a daunting experience for Sam. Screaming fans and nosy reporters were nothing he would probably ever get used to, but he had managed with sufficient grace. At least that was what he told himself. And once inside the Old Opera, things had been much more pleasant.

They had found Eugene and his wife Phyllis soon enough, and once Phyllis had realized that Yaden wasn’t only a Phoenix Knight but a really charming and fun person, she had taken it as her personal quest to introduce him to all the other officers’ spouses present tonight. From there on, everyone relaxed even though there was a Phoenix Knight sitting at their table.  
The only tense moment had been when suddenly, Duke Veruda was standing at their table, congratulating Sam on his good work and amiably chatting with Yaden. But the Duke had somehow sensed that all the other officers were just a little insecure about how to deal with him around, and excused himself soon enough.

Much as expected, Yaden turned out to be an excellent dancer, his adorably helpless moves limited to dancing in pubs or discos. Actually, he was a much better dancer than Sam, and they had a ton of fun arguing if Sam tripped over his feet less often while leading or when being led. For the first time in his life, Sam stayed at the ball until the band played their last song, and if the cleanup crew hadn’t been politely waiting in the wings already, they might have stayed even longer.

A little foot-sore but still way too excited to go to bed, they had decided to return to Sam’s place and have a cup of coffee on the balcony. Not that Yaden would ever drink coffee, he couldn’t stand the stuff. But a cup of tea would do nicely, and that was what Yaden was currently preparing down in the kitchen.

Apart from everything else, Sam was happy to have some more time on his own with Yaden. Not that he minded Yaden’s other spouses or his children around, all the contrary, but tonight there were still some other matters to sort out.

Even though everything was good between them, Sam still wasn’t too sure if he was really doing the right thing. Not that Sam had any doubts about wanting to share his life with Yaden, not at all. But would the Phoenix Knight really keep him around? After all, Yaden surely was already getting enough trouble from the PR staff at the Phoenix Knight Tower for making out with yet another commoner. One just couldn’t go on and constantly marry below your status. Especially not when you’re one of the most observed people of the Empire.

But Sam thought he had figured out a way to calm those questioning voices in his head once and for all.

“Are you ready up there?” Yaden called from downstairs. “Tea is ready.”

“All’s set,” Sam replied, lighting a small wind-light as finishing tough. “Just waiting for you.”

From the dark pit of the staircase, Yaden emerged, carrying Sam’s ‘Demon Witches of Leichnam’ collectible mug. Behind him, floating in the air as if pulled on invisible strings, were another mug, a small teapot and plate of bisquits. Sam had not expected to have any cookies around the house, but then again, finding food seemed to be one of Yaden’s many odd talents.

As always, Yaden wore his typical outfit – heavy brown pants, a roughly woven green shirt with sleeves so short they barely registered. The tattoos on his lower arms were covered by two leather bracers sporting two Phoenix’ in gold filigree, the symbol of the Phoenix Knights. Barefooted, of course, as always.  
Sam had seen his lover wearing those clothes countless times by now, but it still made his heart skip a beat or two. A real Phoenix Knight. In his house. Serving tea. Having Yaden walking around in his iconic outfit was a little disconcerting each time he came into view.

It was a lot to take in, and the effect seemed to be wearing off much less quickly than Sam had hoped or even expected. It wasn’t even so much Yaden’s noble rank or the legal powers he carried. It was just that a Phoenix Knight was less a real person in Sam’s mind than someone you see in a comic book or a movie. Or on a collectible mug, for that matter.

“What a beautiful night,” Yaden remarked while setting down the cups.

“Indeed. What a lovely coincidence.”

Instead of an answer, they just shared a knowing smile.

They settled down in silence, holding their mugs and looking across the glittering cityscape that stretched out in front of them. Wordlessly, Yaden snug a bare foot up his lover’s ankle, insistently pulling at the sock with his toes, trying to reach some skin.

Again, they shared a silent, smiling look across the tiny table.

“Don’t tell me you’re too tired, now,” Yaden remarked as he realized Sam had no intention of instantly giving in to his lover’s advances. “If I had known that, we’d have left the ball hours ago.”

“I’m not too tired.” Sam replied without moving his legs out of Yaden’s reach. “It’s just that I have other things in mind.”

“Other things?”

“Yes, other things.” Sam turned a little to face his lover before he continued. “Look, we’ve been dating the last weeks, and I for my part had the time of my life.”

“Did I ever give the impression that I didn’t?” Yaden asked incredulously.

“No, darling.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“No problem. Just a question, but a complicated one, and I’ll need some moments to explain. Will you let me?”

Grinning, Yaden nodded, biting his lip and looking a little like a schoolboy caught in chatting in class, only waiting for the teacher to turn his back to continue.

“You and your family have made me feel really welcome. I am still not sure how you can happily be married with four people and not have jealousy running rampant, but if your other spouses manage, I sure will try. I mean, even Teagan has stopped trying to get into my pants, at least for the moment, and the way we handled that was… really cool.”

Teagan was Yaden’s second husband, and he had taken to Sam like a cat to catnip. It was a disconcerting sight to have a renowned demon warrior reduced to purrs and awkwardly obvious attempts of seduction. Sam was harbouring a strong suspicion that this current pause was just a strategic lull, and would resume with renewed fervour at some point in the future. But the whole affair had been handled with so much laughter and charm and complete lack of jealousy or embarrassment among all spouses involved that Sam felt very confident they would be able to handle a lot of trouble together.

“So, basically what I am trying to say is – wow, I can’t really believe this is happening, but yeah, it’s great. I am happy, and I think you are, too.”

Yaden nodded silently, his eyes sparkling vividly enough to rival the glittering city behind him.

“Only thing is, I am still a commoner among nobles, and I’m actually still a rather scared with all those people walking through your life.”

Yaden opened his mouth to reassure Sam, but he just raised a finger to his lips, gesturing Yaden to be silent for a little while longer.

“But I think I have found a solution for that, and that’s were we come to the question I have been talking about.”

Sam rose and walked back into his bedroom, rummaging in the drawer where he kept his socks until he had found the small box he had stashed there for good reason. Yaden could sense metal better than any radar, and if Sam had carrying the content of the box with him, it would have spoiled any moment of surprise he might have had.

So when Sam returned to the balcony, Yaden’s cautiously disbelieving expression made it clear that he already had a notion of what Sam was bringing back with him. His expression didn’t change much when Sam knelt down on one knee in front of him, as elegantly as that was possible on the tiny balcony, presenting him the ring he had bought a few days earlier.

“I am positive this goes against any protocol of this Empire, with me being a commoner and such. But I love you.” Taking a deep breath, he looked Yaden straight in the eyes and asked the question he had been carrying with him the whole evening. “Sir Yaden of House Dracon, Phoenix Knight of the Empire, will you marry me?”

“Huh,” Yaden mumbled, wide-eyed and genuinely flattened by the situation. “I… I am not sure this is possible…”

“What is not possible?”

“I mean – me being married by anyone. I should be the one proposing, and I need the Emperor’s permission, I mean, uh…”

For a heartbeat, Sam waited politely for Yaden to find the words he was obviously searching for frantically.

“Dear, this is the part where you are supposed to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’…”

“Huh?” Yaden blinked at Sam as if only now realizing that he hadn’t yet answered the actual question. “Oh my god! I’m sorry, I mean, yes, of course! Yes!”

“Good.” Taking another deep breath, Sam smiled with relief. “You had me worried here, for a moment.”

“Oh no, darling, I was just – “ Genuinely startled and with the cutest blush Sam had ever seen on another man, Yaden laughed with relief and excitement. “It’s just that no one’s ever proposed to me. And apart from the legal questions, I have no clue how to act when I’m the one being asked.”

As if trying to make amends for his former bumbling reaction, Yaden graciously held out his hand to Sam, smiling.

“It would be with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that I consent to such a marriage, Officer Samuel Balmoral of the Ducal Crescents.”

Chuckling at the overly floral wording, Sam took the ring out of its case and slipped it onto Yaden’s finger. He even managed not to flinch when the ring moved slightly under his touch, as Yaden adjusted it to fit perfectly. Looking up, Sam could see Yaden smiling like a little boy, excited and happy beyond words. Finally giving in to his urge to move, Yaden slid out of the chair and onto the floor next to Sam, taking his head into his hands, kissing him passionately.

Now with the question finally out of his mind, Sam surely didn’t mind. Holding his lover tightly, they kissed and cuddled in the warm night. Sam had just picked up Yaden to carry him over to the bed as he noticed a gentle, mental knocking in the back of his mind.

\--Everything alright?-- Calm, dark and sensual, like red wine and incense, the mental voice of Lord Kendrik. A talented empath and telepath, he kept taps on all members of the family, and was pretty much as enamoured with Yaden as Sam. --Yaden’s pretty upset.--

\--He’s fine.-- Sam replied, chuckling inwardly. He wasn’t just marrying a Phoenix Knight, he was marrying a whole family. --I proposed, and he said yes.--

\--By the Goddess!-- This time, it was Colin’s mental voice that replied, patched through by Kendrik’s delicate talent. --Finally!--

Sam felt Kendrik sending a wordless, mocking reprieve in Colin’s direction before he said:

\--Congratulations, then. And welcome to the family.--

\--Thank you, Kendrik.--

\--Will you be coming home?-- Colin asked. --This calls for a proper party.--

Looking down on the man in his arms, Sam only sent them one of his dirtiest smiles.

\--We’ll stay in town tonight. And now get out of my head. I’m about to ravish my husband.--

Gently, he sat Yaden down onto the bed, smiling at his questioning glance.

“Who was that?” Yaden asked, having noticed the tell-tale signs of a telepathic communication in Sam’s face.

“Nobody.” Closing the balcony door behind him, Sam gave Yaden the same, dirty smile he had sent to his other spouses just a moment ago. “Tonight, it’s just you and me.”


End file.
